#horror film fanfiction

[mrs-b-heelshire]

Brahms Heelshire X reader p.4

❤︎ This post is 18+ minors do not interact please ^.^

❤︎ This fic is F/M (sorry I forgot to add this before)

❤︎ part four

❤︎ part three here

You stand there looking at Brahms, he's visible shaking and clinging onto his mask, you walk over to him and kneel down next to him "Brahms...are you okay" he shakes his head, you place your hand on his shoulder "Brahms you don't have to take it off" he slowly turns and looks at you, you see his eyes, bloodshot, he was crying "oh Brahms I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said anything" you pull him into a hug, he slowly wraps his arms around you, like he can't believe you are actually hugging him, you squeeze him softly "I won't bring it up again, I promise" you feel him nod slowly, acknowledging your words "come on lets go eat" you both stand up and you take his hand and lead him to the kitchen "anything you want?" he nods "sandwich" you laugh softly "okay what would you like in it" he shrugs...is he sulking? "okay Brahms I can't make something when you don't tell me what you want" he shrugs again, you sigh and walk over to him, you lift his face by his chin so he is looking at you "Brahms stop sulking and tell me what you want" his eyes grow wide and he grabs you waist "kiss" you look down at him "Brahms you can't just demand something" he whines "kiss" you sigh, defeated "if I kiss you will you tell me what you want in your sandwich" he nods and sits up, he cups your face softly and you kiss him, he leans into it and he moans softly, the sound of him moaning lights a fire inside you, you quickly pull away "uh...right now...uhm...what was I doing" you look at Brahms, you can tell he's smiling, he likes that he has made you flustered "sandwich" you nod "and what do you want in it" he shrugs "surprise me" you cross your arms and look at him "you did that on purpose"

You pass him the plate with his sandwich on and he looks at you "what?" he shuffles in his seat slightly "oh...right I'm sorry, I'll be in the living room if you need me" you walk to the living room and sit down, you look back to the kitchen door, curiosity fills your mind, what does he look like, are the burns that bad he feels like the mask is truly better than his own face, the last thought makes you want to...you don't even know? how can you convince someone that has been isolated and forgotten that they are worthy of acceptance? your eyes haven't left the door so when it starts to open and you see him walking out adjusting his mask you heart jumps, his eyes meet yours and he looks confused yet happy to see you are still here, he shuffles over and sits down next to you, you turn to face him, a strange feeling coming over you, you like that you know about him, you like that he's there now, you are so deep in thought you don't even realise you have cupped his face with one of your hands, you don't notice he is leaning into your touch, you come back to reality and shuffle closer to him, you want to actually just look at him, without the nerves, without the reservations, you just want to see him, your eyes scan his mask, it has a few impurities but its porcelain so that's no surprise, you move a few strands of hair away from his mask, his hair is soft, bouncy and curly, you coil a curl around your finger, smiling as it bounces back, you look at his eyes, he's visibly confused and a little worried but his eyes are still so soft and kind "Brahms are you okay with me doing this?" his head tilts to the side and you smile "are you okay with me touching you?" he looks at you for a few seconds before grabbing your other hand and putting it on his chest, you laugh softly "I'll take that as a yes" you trace the hem of his shirt slowly then you start to move your hand down his chest, you notice his breathing has quickened, the lower your hand goes the more he relaxes, you stop your hand just above his belt line and he whimpers, you look up at him, his breathing is quick, his eyes are shut and his head is leaning on the back of the sofa "Brahms?" he looks at you, eyes full of lust, before you can react he grabs you and places you down on his lap.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 46

In a modern world, Jaskier and Geralt are unlikely best friends. Have been for years. An odd new part of the routine however is Jaskier's sudden insistence on watching horror movies nearly every night he and Geralt hang out. It's the last thing they do every time, late at night, sat on the couch together, and it's what they do before Geralt leaves back to his place. They sit by each other on the couch, of course, they're fine with being near each other. They've been best friends for years. But Jaskier's fear of actually paying attention to what's on the screen usually ends up with them cuddling, as Jaskier hides from the movie by shoving his face into Geralt. But Jaskier just keeps asking for the horror movies, so he must like the movies, despite them scaring him. He was always a bit weird. Geralt supposes it's not too odd for his friend. That's why Geralt is incredibly surprised when he gets a call at 3 am from Jaskier's room mate, yelling at him to stop forcing Jaskier to watch movies he's afraid of, because they don't want to deal with Jaskier waking up from nightmares any more. Jaskier meanwhile thinks that the night terrors are TOTALLY worth getting an excuse to cuddle Geralt nearly every night. It's been so many years of being deeply in love with his best friend, and he's like a starving man being fed crumbs. He's just glad Geralt hasn't seemed to catch on yet!

[black--cherryy]

There's something coming for you...

Finally Out ! Go read it! 🔪

The characters I write about are getting more and more insane but so am I and people reading it.

But that's the special thing about my blog

We all need therapy for real.

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[doeeyeslost]

Killing Boys

Hazel Callahan x OC/reader

Based on Jennifers body

Warning overall: death, kill*ing, basically everything that happened on Jennifers body

“You’re killing people!” yelled/whispered Hazel.

“No, I’m killing boys.” Bee answered as she put on her high heels boots. “Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go.”

“You’re my best friend, and I wanna help you, but I won’t let you kill again.” Hazel said, trying to sound threatening.

“That’s a lose-lose.” Bee walked away, leaving Hazel with a broken heart and a big doubt.”

Hazel Callahan and Phoebe “Bee” Evergreen had been friends since school, “sandbox love never dies” Hazel used to say, as they grew older, she developed a crush on her best friend, Bee, but she never thought her feelings were reciprocated, so she went in life acting like she never felt a thing. One night, there was a concert of their favorite band, but an accident happened and they lost sigh of each other, next thing Hazel knew, her best friend was covered in blood in her kitchen, what happened to her? why does she only wants to eat boys now? can she do something about it? and, most importantly, will she ever find out Phoebe goes after the guys Hazel pretended to have a crush on?

[katapotato55]

How to write a good metaphor

yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.

1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.

don't.

"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "

SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.

i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.

followup on this:

2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.

"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"

then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.

you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.

The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.

3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)

To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.

another example: analogue horror.

broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.

analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.

undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)

tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.

4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.

not everyone is going to understand your metaphor

and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.

remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?

those teachers are full of it. ignore them.

metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.

relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.

5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.

don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.

"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask

simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.

(spoiler about bugsnax)

I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.

It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.

(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.

[strugglingwriterwattpad]

Walter Deville teaser

As she tightly gripped the entrance door, her heart skipped a beat as the melodious sound of her mobile ringtone echoed in her ear. With a sense of intrigue, she glanced at the screen to find an unfamiliar number glowing brightly. Without hesitation, she swiftly answered the call, her voice filled with a hint of curiosity. "Miss Stoker speaking," she uttered, her hands instinctively seeking warmth within the comforting embrace of her coat. “good evening, Miss Stoker. I am calling on behalf of my employee Lord Deville. The Lord has taken quite a liking to your recent paintings and would request to purchase every single one of them.” As she received the quick and emotionless request, a chill ran down her spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her entire being. It was a request that held the power to ignite her creative soul. Each and every painting from her recent collection flashed before her eyes, their gothic designs and dark colours dancing in her mind's eye. The numbers representing their worth swirled around in her head, filling her with a sense of exhilaration and joy. “Sir apologize for the silence. But I you sure you have the right artist. My pieces aren’t exactly the most popular pieces on the market.” She stuttered finally having the strength to enter the gallery and head to her office.

“ I am very sure mam. Lord Deville has been captivated by the pieces for some time now and has sent over a contract to your public email address.” (Y/N) eagerly unlocked her laptop and dove into her overflowing inbox, her heart pounding with anticipation. And there it was, like a beacon of hope, the subject line that caught her attention, illuminating the screen with its splendour. As her eyes met the dazzling digits of the price, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins, causing her sparkling eyes to widen in sheer delight. “this all seems too good to be true sir. I will have a read through the email and get back to the lord as soon as I'm done.”

“very well mam. We hope to hear from you soon.” As the old butler hung up the old-fashioned phone he looked back at his master with a poised nod. “it is done, my lord. Miss Stoker will read over the contract now.” In the dimly lit confines of Carfax Abbey's office, a solitary candle cast eerie shadows upon the vintage desks. The lord of the manor, an enigmatic figure, sat upright and impassive, poring over the printouts of (Y/N)'s website. “is it really here sir? Has our lady finally returned to us?” the butler spoke still keeping his emotions locked away. “it would seem so Mr. Fields.” the lord muttered. Finally, his old laptop flashed with a new email from the woman he had longed to see for centuries. “dear lord Deville. I am very pleased with the proposal sent to me. Unfortunately, the pieces have one more day in my personal gallery, but I can assure you after tonight’s event, I will have them sent of to your manor as soon as possible. I will send you over delivery reports once sent over. Warm regards Miss Stoker.” As Lord Deville's eyes scanned the message, a sly smile crept across his face. His heart, once as cold as ice, began to thaw with excitement. However, he knew better than to reveal his emotions just yet. He would keep his composure until he had his beloved back in his arms, where she belonged. As he sat in the dark, his fingers gracefully twirled the golden ring, its presence on his long finger a testament to his patience. With each rotation, the jewel embedded in the ring shimmered, mirroring the sparkle that once danced in her eyes, a memory etched in his heart.

[the-woman-upstairs]

Favorite Horror Novels I Read in 2023:

[duckybeloved]

Hey!

Heyy! New tumblr user here, just wanted to hop on and post a quick little intro! My names Ducky or Finnley, I'm transmasc and use he/him pronouns. I am utterly obsessed with stranger things and most of my posts will probably be about my stranger things au haha. MASSIVE steddie shipper. Also love horror, theatre and the sims 4 :] I have adhd so posts will probs be super inconsistent sorryy!! i love to make art and write so expect lots of that!

[feasibilities]

Renewal | Jim x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Burgeoning Relationship, Pregnancy, Mentions of Sex Synopsis: An unexpected pregnancy between you and Jim could get in the way of things. Author's Note: I have nothing but love for my baldheaded king, Jim.

“I’m pregnant, Jim.” You whispered to yourself, rehearsing the line for the thousandth time. You couldn’t understand why you were so nervous. You two survived hell on earth and now you got the chance to dote on post-epidemic life. You came to this cottage in Cumbria so Jim could recover. Naturally, your ardor got in the way of his recovery. Affectionate glances and gestures became blazes of unbridled passion. You remember an incident where the cottage nearly burned down because you two were occupied with screwing around in the bath. Your relationship with Jim blossomed beautifully and you felt safe for the first time in weeks. Walking to your bedroom, you saw him sleeping soundly. You went to him and planted gentle kisses on his nose to wake him. Stirring awake, he smiled at you. 

“I’m up, I’m up.” He said sleepily. You wiggled your way underneath the blanket and stared at him intently. 

“I have something to tell you, Jim.” You said softly. 

“What is it?” He inquired, furrowing his eyebrows. You stayed silent for a bit which made Jim sit up. You wordlessly took his hand and placed it on your stomach. It took a minute for it to register. His eyes widened as he realized what the news was. 

“Really?” He said excitedly. You nodded in response and giggled when he embraced you. 

“How far along?” He asked.

“No idea but labor’s gonna be a bitch.” You quipped. Jim delicately pulled the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder and kissed it. You put your hand on his chest to remind him of your condition.

“I’ll be gentle. Promise.” He murmured on your skin. 

[alethianightsong]

How Near Dark should've ended

Caleb is sitting on the cure for vampirism and doesn't bring it up during the climax. How hard would it have been to be like "Hey, Homer, I got the cure for your vampirism. Wanna stop this Peter Pan shit? Just let my little sister go." Homer: "Wait, Jesse, call a truce!" Then the last 15 minutes is Homer getting his blood transfusion while Jesse, Diamondback, and Severen ride off into the sunset cuz they're perfectly content being bloodsuckers. Maybe Mae breaks Caleb's heart cuz she actually likes being immortal despite the distaste of killing. Speaking of her, I got the feeling that she only had a mild crush on Caleb that would've disappeared after a week. Poor Caleb just wanted to laid and got kidnapped by vampiric outlaws instead.

[mrs-b-heelshire]

Brahms Heelshire X reader p.6

❤︎ This post is 18+ minors do not interact please ^.^

❤︎ this is just a s*x scene so if you don't want to read it then please scroll on, if you do well read on 💜

❤︎ This fic is F/M

❤︎ part six

❤︎ part five here

You cling onto him, you don't feel like you are about to fall but no one has picked you up like this before "Brahms where are you taking me" he ignores you, climbs the stairs, and stops outside of your room, he opens the door and carries you inside "Brahms" he walks over to the bed and throws you down gently, you regain yourself and look up at him, his eyes are roaming your body, taking in everything, you can't help but do the same, as he stands there you let your eyes roam over his body, you wanted to have your hands on him again, feel how his body reacted to your touch, you sit up and shuffle to the edge of the bed "come here" he walks over to you and kneels in front of you, you can tells he's nervous and you know why, he knows what he wants he just doesn't know what to do, he runs his hands up your thighs, his eyes not leaving your body, he stops at the button of your trousers and looks up at you "you may" he undoes your trousers and slips them off of you, he stares at you, taking in everything he is seeing, he spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist, he looks down at you, you look into his eyes and see nothing but lust, want and endearment, the way he is looking at you, touching you, it's making your heart swoon, he starts caressing every part of your body he can "beautiful" he leans closer and kisses down your neck and chest, you arch your back and run your fingers through his hair, he starts to kiss down your stomach and stops at your panty line, he sits up slightly and slips them off of you, he starts to explore you with his fingers, he's unsure and curious, he's watching you, studying you reactions to learn what to do "come here, let me show you" he leans over you, you guide his hand, telling him what feels good, what doesn't, what you like, what will make you putty in his hands, he seems fascinated by your words "like this?" his voice is soft, he plays with you gently "yes" the word comes out breathless, his touch lights a fire inside of you, you want more, you need more, nothing will be enough, you can feel his eyes on you, he's watching, studying every reaction you have to his touch "oh fuck" you grip onto his arm as you feel yourself getting close, you lean closer to him "fuck Brahms" you dig your nails into his arm and arch your back, your breathing becomes uneven, you can't control the volume of the moans leaving your lips, you relax slightly and look at him, his eyes are dark, he positions himself between your legs and roughly pushes himself into you, you gasp, not from pain but from pure pleasure, he leans into your neck and whimpers "you...feel so good" he lifts your legs slightly and starts to move, he's gentle at first, keeping his movements slow, like he's afraid of hurting you, when he realises the sounds you are making are good he gets more confident, he gages what you like by the sounds you make, his movements become rough and full of need, he lifts your hips slightly, keeping you as close as possible, his soft whimpers have changed to low growl like moans, the closer he gets the more animalistic he gets, his grip is tight no doubt leaving marks, he's rough but he's still making sure he doesn't hurt you, his body tenses and he whimpers into your neck as he chases his release, you feel his body relax, he's panting slightly, he starts to leave soft kisses on your neck and collar bone, he nibbles slightly "more" you run your nails down his arm gently "don't worry that definitely wasn't a onetime thing" he cups your face and kisses you.

[missnorn]

Now that Brad Dourif has retired, he is finishing his role as Chucky, and I'm extremely pissed off. I will be shipping Charles Lee Ray and Unburnt OG Freddy Krueger!!! Yay!

[oliverreedmasterass]

Greta Van Fleet having their own Disney Channel show like imagine if they were brought up that way omg

Notes: EVERYONE GIVE ALEX (@jmkho) SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE INCREDIBLE TITLE, I LOVE IT WITH ALL OF MY HEART SHE'S SO UNBELIEVABLY TALENTED!!! AND ADDISON (@starcatcherkiszka) THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT AND TALKING ME THROUGH THE PLAN FOR THIS FIC!! Much love to you both 🫶

Synopsis: In this pilot episode of a Disney Channel-esque show, the members of Greta Van Fleet all face their own personal challenges: Josh struggles with writer's block, Jake is convinced the studio is haunted, and Danny and Sam are in the midst of an intense prank war

Words: 5k (but it goes by fast since it's a script, trust me)

Warnings: ghosts/spookiness/hauntings, allusions to insanity, chimpanzees, James Hetfield

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The scene opens in the studio. Josh is pacing back and forth while murmuring to himself, Jake is perched on a stool with an acoustic guitar in his hand staring blankly at a wall, Danny is behind his drum kit attempting to twirl his drumsticks around, and Sam is sitting at his keys cradling an impressive cup of coffee. 

JOSH: I can’t believe this. 

JAKE: It’ll come to you, don’t worry. It always does. 

JOSH: No, it’s just, I don’t know. It feels different this time. Like, my brain isn’t coming up with anything. 

DANNY: I think the song you started writing about your rhinestones had potential. 

[Flashback to Josh brainstorming the rhinestone song]

JOSH: Twinkling, glittering, glimmering musical colors radiating on my face, my shining face, beaming at youuuuuuu…

[Cut back to the present]

Josh squints at Danny. It’s obvious he knows Danny is lying. 

JAKE: We have time before this song has to be done, Josh. No need to force it out. 

SAM: [to Jake] Actually I think he would work better under pressure. [to Josh] If we don’t finish this song in the next hour, I’m leaving the band. 

JAKE, DANNY: Sam! 

Josh drops to the floor and folds himself up in the fetal position with a moan. 

JAKE: Great idea, Sam. 

Jake sets his guitar down and squats next to Josh so he can place a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

JAKE: [to Josh] Why don’t we give you some space to work out the lyrics? 

Behind Jake and Josh, Sam takes a drink from his coffee and spits it out with a loud “BLEGH!” Everyone turns to look at him. 

DANNY: [cheekily] Burn your tongue? 

SAM: This tastes awful, like a salt lamp! 

JOSH: How do you know what a salt lamp tastes like? 

With a wide grin, Danny removes a handful of empty salt packets from his pocket and holds them up to Sam to see. 

DANNY: Gotcha. 

SAM: No! 

JAKE: Is this a part of your stupid prank war? 

SAM: It’s not stupid. 

DANNY: I’m beating Sam by a landslide. I only have to prank him three more times and then the crown will be mine. Sam, you have what? Seven more pranks? You’d think with two older brothers and all, you’d be a lot better at this. 

SAM: You haven’t seen my best pranks yet. 

DANNY: I’m hoping they’re better than drawing a banana on my drum kit. And my car. Actually, why do you keep drawing bananas on my stuff? 

SAM: It’s funny. 

DANNY: It’s annoying. 

Josh groans from the floor. 

JAKE: C’mon, Josh. Get up. 

Jake helps a limp Josh back to his feet and makes sure that he’s going to stand upright when he releases his grip on his shoulders. Josh looks dazed but stands vertically, which earns him a pat on the head from Jake. 

JOSH: I’m gonna get the studio to myself? 

JAKE: Yeah, we’ll give you some space to actually hear your own thoughts.

In the background, Danny crawls on his hands and knees to Sam’s feet where he proceeds to tie his shoelaces together. Sam is blissfully ignorant, giving his rank coffee another testing sip, which he spits out again. 

JOSH: Okay, yeah, hear my thoughts, good, yeah. 

Jake grabs his guitar and leads the way out of the studio, giving Josh a quick wave which Josh returns. Danny follows behind Jake and Sam stands to his feet, still unaware of his shoelaces. 

SAM: [whispering to Josh] Hey, give me a call if you need any help. 

JOSH: Thanks, I won’t. 

SAM: I’ve got some good ideas to motivate you to write something. 

JOSH: I don’t trust you. 

SAM: I’m only a phone call away. 

JOSH: Please leave the room, Sam. 

SAM: You’ve got it, brother. 

Sam starts to take a step forward and promptly tumbles to the ground with a thump. Danny and Jake pop their heads back into the room and start to laugh and taunt Sam, who is staring down at his feet in awe. 

SAM: DANNY! HOW? WHAT? WHEN? 

DANNY: [calling from outside the room] It’s too easy! 2 pranks to go! 

Sam grumbles, hastily unties his shoes, and then ducks out of the room, hanging his head in embarrassment. The door slams shut, finally engulfing Josh in silence. He closes his eyes and lets in a deep inhale, followed by a long exhale. He opens his eyes and sits on the floor next to a notepad and pen that had obviously been discarded in frustration earlier. 

Starcatchers Theme/Opening Titles

[acoustic theme song with a harmonica] 

From the fires we emerged anew, 

Singing, playing rock and roll, 

Reviving a genre just for you. 

Across the globe we traveled far

Recruiting an army of peace, 

Enchanting crowds with our guitar. 

A battle ensued at the Gardens Gate

And we preserved the gift of nature, 

Standing up against a culture of hate.  

We are the Starcatchers, reaching for the sky, 

Discovering words of wisdom to live by. 

We deliver a message from the heavens above:

Live your legend through the intelligence of love. 

[end theme] 

JOSH: [to the camera] It’s one song. Just a single song. What does it matter? People can never understand what I’m saying anyways, I could write literally anything. 

Josh immediately stares daggers at his notepad, deep in thought. His face is starting to turn red and his eyes bug out. He stops before his head explodes and throws himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the studio. 

JOSH: Nothing. 

Across the hall and a few doors down, Jake is in an empty studio, walking in circles while strumming his acoustic guitar. 

JAKE: [singing] What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor ear-lay in tha mornin’! Way hay and up she rises, way hay and up she rises, way hay and up-

Jake is cut off by the sound of something scraping against wood. Jake’s face pales in fear and he whirls around in a quick circle, searching for the source of the sound. 

JAKE: I just wanna say, for the record, I can kick really, really hard. 

The scraping suddenly stops and Jake lets out a sigh of relief. Then, he catches a glimpse of a water bottle quickly jerking across a table in the corner of the room. It seems as though it moved on its own. In a blind panic, Jake drops his guitar and books it for the studio door. He jiggles and pushes on the handle to no avail. The door appears to be locked. 

JAKE: Ruh roh raggy.

Jake is breathing heavily now, well beyond the brink of panic, and starts to kick the door with all of his might. The threat he threw out earlier has some merit: he can kick really, really hard, but the door doesn’t budge. Jake squeezes his eyes shut and smacks his forehead.

JAKE: C'mon, brain. Give me something.  

Jake grabs hold of the door knob again. He twists the handle and tries pushing out, but the door is still sealed shut. Jake turns the knob again and pulls the door towards him. The door opens. 

JAKE: [staring at the door warily] You’ve got to be kidding me. 

Now free from the haunted studio room, Jake runs down the hallway as fast as he can, past Danny, who is sitting in the studio lobby. 

JAKE: Ghosts! 

Danny watches Jake run past and then, unbothered, looks back down at his phone. Behind him, Sam sneaks along the wall of the lobby like he’s in Mission Impossible, armed with two bananas. He creeps closer to Danny and can’t help but let out a soft laugh, which makes Danny turn around. 

DANNY: What’s going on? 

Sam quickly retracts both hands behind his back to hide the bananas. 

SAM: Nothing…

DANNY: What have you got behind your back? 

SAM: Oh, you know, stuff. Taxes. I have taxes. 

Before Sam can react, Danny springs to his feet, barrels towards Sam, grabs his arms, and tugs them out in front of him so Danny can see the two bananas. Danny and Sam both stare down at what’s in Sam’s hands, and then Danny shoots Sam a tired look. 

DANNY: More bananas? 

SAM: Hyah!

Sam tosses the two bananas at Danny’s chest so they hit him with a soft thump before dropping to the floor. Danny stares down at the bananas, expressionless. 

DANNY: You just bruised two perfectly good bananas. 

SAM: Pick them up, you’ll get the prank. It’s a really stellar one. 

Danny looks like he doesn’t want to, but he grabs the bananas and turns them around in his hands with his eyebrows arched. 

DANNY: Oh my god. You drew my car and drum kit on these? 

SAM: I’m on my A-game now, Daniel! 

Sam runs off, cackling loudly. Danny watches him go and shakes his head. 

DANNY: [to the camera] What does he think a prank is? 

Danny places the bananas on the lobby table and then sighs and walks in the direction Sam went, passing by the studio where Josh is currently holed up. In the studio, Josh is stationed in front of a whiteboard. 

JOSH: What story should I tell? What needs to be added to the Greta Van Fleet universe? [Speaking aloud as he writes on the whiteboard using a sharpie] I get carsick. No. Jake’s feet smell bad. No. Womb memories. No. European architecture. No. Argh! 

Josh launches the sharpie off to the side and it crashes against one of Danny’s cymbals. 

JOSH: This is impossible. I can’t do this by myself. 

Josh eyes a landline phone sitting in the studio. The screen splits in two as Josh calls James Hetfield, and he answers the phone. 

JAMES: Howdy, it’s the beast under your bed, in your closet, in your head. What can I do for ya? 

JOSH: Hey, quick question, do you ever have such a hard time writing a song that you want to pull your brain out of your head and play basketball with it? 

JAMES: Can’t say that I have. 

JOSH: Darn. 

JAMES: Want some advice? Don’t answer that. I’m gonna give it to you anyway. Write about the things that make your skin crawl, that make you shiver, that your brain actively avoids thinking about. That’s where your most complex emotions lay. 

JOSH: Eighteen wheelers. I’m certain they can’t see me when I’m driving next to them. 

JAMES: No, I’m talking about like the lowest of lows here. Think war, famine, plague, climate change, scary stuff. 

JOSH: Chimpanzees. Ooh, I’m getting shivers. I think it’s working, James!

JAMES: Oh, um, okay, get to writing then, Josh. I won’t keep you. 

With an air of triumph, Josh slams the phone down. 

Outside the studio, Jake is talking on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator. 

JAKE: I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, the water bottle moved. 

9-1-1 OPERATOR: No, I get what you’re saying. That’s not an emergency, sir. 

JAKE: Listen to me, the water bottle moved on its own. There’s something paranormal happening here, and I don’t want a poltergeist situation going down. Being sucked into a spooky closet is one of my top 10 fears. 

9-1-1 OPERATOR: I’m going to hang up. I have other calls to get to.

The line disconnects. Jake huffs and jams his phone back into his pocket. 

JAKE: How do they not have a paranormal sub-department? 

In the background in the parking lot of the studio, Danny tiptoes into frame with a marshmallow gun and a pair of goggles on. He scans the area and then crouches down, on the prowl, trying to find Sam. 

DANNY: [softly] Sammy, come out and play. I’ve got a little treat for you. 

Danny continues creeping around the cars and, as he moves past Sam’s Tesla, Sam jumps out of the trunk, decked out in a banana costume. 

SAM: [literally shouting] COME MISTER TALLY MAN, TALLY ME BANANA! 

DANNY: [shouting back] WHAT IS WITH YOU AND THE BANANAS? 

Sam reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a new banana, which he once again throws at Danny. 

SAM: How does it ‘peel’ to get pranked this hard, Daniel? 

Sam proudly removes himself from the trunk and stands in front of Danny, placing his hands on his hips with confidence. Danny can’t help but silently unload his marshmallow gun on Sam, pummeling him with mini marshmallows. Sam squeaks out in shock and ducks into a ball on the pavement. Danny continues until he’s out of marshmallows. 

DANNY: [down to Sam] One more prank to go. 

SAM: [coughing up marshmallows] You’ll never win. 

Jake runs over to his band members. 

JAKE: [still unbelievably on edge] There is something creepy afoot here. 

DANNY: I’ve told you before, Jake, the moaning sounds you keep hearing are coming from the experimental band’s sessions down the hall. 

JAKE: A water bottle moved right in front of my eyes. 

SAM: [mocking, from the ground] Ooh scary. 

Jake picks up a marshmallow from the ground and proceeds to chuck it at Sam. 

JAKE: [back to Danny] There’s a ghost in there and it’s upset that we’re invading its space. I’m gonna get sucked into a closet if I go back in there, and I can’t risk it. 

Danny and Sam exchange a glance. 

DANNY: I’ll go back in with you and show you that there’s nothing to worry about. 

SAM: And I’ll stay here because I really don’t care.

Danny shoots Sam a look and then guides a reluctant Jake back towards the studio. 

JAKE: Do you have any holy water on you? 

DANNY: I don’t think that works on ghosts, Jake. What do you think we’re up against here? 

JAKE: I want to be prepared for anything. 

Even though Jake is dragging his heels, Danny succeeds in pushing him through the front doors and guides him past the lobby, towards the “haunted” studio. Jake once again looks pale as a sheet. 

DANNY: See? Nothing supernatural going on here. Except you. God, you look like a ghost. 

JAKE: [whispering] I’m a ghost? 

DANNY: No, no, come on, show me the room where it happened. 

Jake starts to cautiously step towards the room when they hear Josh belting out lyrics down the hall. Danny and Jake stop in their tracks and listen. 

JOSH: Ooh! Ooh! Aah! Aah! Chimpanzee on my mind, coming near me, he’s by my side! 

Without uttering a word, it’s mutually agreed between Danny and Jake that they need to step in before Josh writes any more terrible lyrics. They both move to his studio door and storm in. Josh is sitting on a stool, shaking a tambourine, but stops when he notices them. 

JOSH: Something wrong? 

JAKE: What the hell are you singing? 

JOSH: [cautiously] The new song? 

DANNY: Chimpanzee on my mind? 

JOSH: You don’t like it? 

JAKE: Our album is called Starcatcher, Josh. Could you write about something a bit more on theme than apes? 

JOSH: [matter of factly] They sent a chimp to space.

DANNY: This is a good starting point, Josh. Maybe try to work with something a bit more abstract. How do chimps in space make you feel? 

JOSH: Confused. 

DANNY: Okay? Try to work off of that. 

JOSH: Yeah, yeah, okay. 

Josh shoos Jake and Danny out of the studio and looks back at his notepad with a sigh. Jake and Danny step out of the room and move back towards the haunted studio. Jake stands by the door, glued in place. Danny watches him. 

DANNY: Should I? 

Jake purses his lips and nods. Danny slowly pushes the door open and steps in first. Jake hesitantly follows behind him. Danny scans around. 

DANNY: Everything looks normal to me. 

Jake has peeled himself away from Danny and is stationed in front of the haunted water bottle, where all of his problems began. 

JAKE: [pointing a half centimeter to the right of where the water bottle is now sitting] It used to be here. But now it’s here. 

DANNY: Uh huh. 

JAKE: It jerked over on its own. I was nowhere near it. And there were weird scratching noises too. Maybe there’s something in the walls. 

DANNY: Like a squirrel? 

JAKE: Like a ghoul. 

DANNY: You know, what is a ghoul? 

JAKE: A force you shouldn’t reckon with. 

DANNY: I wish you could be a bit more specific sometimes. 

JAKE: I can’t help that I’m mysterious. 

DANNY: No, actually I do think that’s something you can help - 

A chilling sound fills the studio. 

MYSTERIOUS GHOSTLY VOICE: Oohhohohooooohhhhhoooooooooo

Jake screams and jumps into Danny’s arms. Danny instinctually catches Jake. The lights start to flicker.

JAKE: RUN, DANNY, RUN! BEFORE THE CLOSET OPENS AND TAKES ME!

DANNY: THERE’S NO CLOSET IN HERE, JAKE!

Danny runs out of the studio anyways and bumps into Sam, still dressed in the banana costume, in the hall. 

SAM: What’s going on? 

JAKE: [not making any sense] Water bottle and wood and oohhhooooohooohooo sounds and ghouls and spooky and closets and - 

SAM: Danny? 

DANNY: The studio is haunted. 

SAM: Oh, word. 

Jake squirms out of Danny’s arms and faces Sam. 

JAKE: You’re not freaked out? 

SAM: Why should I be? 

JAKE: Ghosts, Sam! They’ll get you! They’re always two steps ahead. 

SAM: Ghosts don’t have feet. 

JAKE: It’s an expression, Sam! 

Cut to Josh in his studio. Jake and Sam’s argument is muffled outside the door, but still audible. Josh sits back on the ground in front of his notepad and pen. 

JOSH: C’mere, lyrics, pspspsp, come to papa. 

This obviously does not work. 

JOSH: [tapping his pen on his chin] Maybe I’d be inspired by our old lyrics? Uhhh what’s a good one? Light My Love? Your mind is a stream of colors. Stream of colors, stream of colors, stream of co-lors. Stream of co…Hmmm. That’s it! A stream of consciousness! That should give me something to work with. 

Josh picks up his pen, suddenly filled with a new surge of energy, and starts to scribble on his paper. A montage of Josh writing in different dramatic angles plays with a song similar to Gonna Fly Now blaring in the background. He finishes writing and drops his smoking pen to the floor. 

JOSH: There. 

As if he’s dealing with an ancient relic, Josh carefully lifts the notepad up to his eyeline and carefully scans over what he wrote. 

JOSH: [reading aloud] All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. All work and no play makes Josh a dull boy. Oh god! It goes on for four and a half pages! 

Josh crumples the pages into tight balls and eats them, removing the evidence. Josh approaches the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth and looks at his reflection, jabbing his finger into his reflection’s shoulder. 

JOSH: No one can know about this, you hear me? No one! This is between you and me. 

JOSH’S REFLECTION: Whatever you say, boss. 

Josh shakes his head and backs away from his reflection. 

JOSH: Woah. [to the camera] I wonder if Carole King has to deal with this. 

JOSH’S REFLECTION: She doesn’t, but James Taylor does. 

Josh hops away from the glass in shock and returns to the whiteboard in a daze. 

JOSH: [to himself] It’s all in your head. 

He attempts to wipe his previous notes away, but it’s not working since he wrote them out in sharpie. Josh drops his arms in defeat. 

JOSH: What’s the point? 

Josh reassumes his spot on the ground in the fetal position. In the studio lobby, Jake is in a similar position on the sofa, staring down at his knees in muted shock. Sam is sitting next to him, still in the banana costume, awkwardly patting his legs. Danny enters back into the room and takes a seat across from Sam and Jake. 

DANNY: I didn’t hear any weird noises in any of the other studios. Well, actually, I think I heard Josh talking to himself, but that’s not out of the ordinary. 

SAM: [to Jake] Hear that? The spooky ghost is on vacation. 

JAKE: [softly] Ghosts can’t go on vacation. 

SAM: How do you know? Are you a ghost? 

Jake huffs but doesn’t continue to argue. 

SAM: [to Danny] One of the assistants brought in some smoothies if you want one, they’re pretty good. 

DANNY: Oh cool, thanks. 

Danny grabs one of the smoothies from the table and takes a long sip. Sam is staring at him, looking on the brink of laughter. Danny sets the smoothie down and eyes Sam. 

DANNY: What? 

SAM: Got you! 

DANNY: [paling] What? What did you do? 

SAM: I put a little extra something in your smoothie. 

Jake untucks himself out of his fetal position to watch the exchange between Danny and Sam. This is some interesting stuff. 

DANNY: Sam, what did you do? 

Sam, beaming wide, pulls out a banana peel and drops it on the floor in front of Danny. Danny looks down at it. 

DANNY: I don’t get it. 

SAM: I put a banana in your smoothie! 

DANNY: Are you being serious? 

SAM: Samuel Francis Kiszka does it again! 

JAKE: Sam, smoothies already have bananas in them. It’s literally one of the main ingredients.

DANNY: Oh thank god, I thought you put laxatives in there. 

SAM: The banana strikes again! I’m right on your tail, Daniel! 

JAKE: I don’t think putting a banana in a smoothie counts as a prank, Sam. 

Sam pouts. A bang and a crash comes from down the hall where Josh is. Jake springs to his feet in alarm. 

JAKE: Josh? 

Completely forgetting about his paralyzing fear of the haunted studio, Jake rushes down the hall to Josh. Danny and Sam trail behind him. Jake throws open the door to the studio and gapes at Josh, who is bashing a tambourine against the glass panel separating the studio from the sound booth. 

JOSH: Stop! Talking! To! Me! Get! Out! Of! My! Head!

JAKE: Josh! Our insurance doesn’t cover trashed studios! 

Josh continues banging on the glass. It’s as if he doesn’t realize Jake is there. Jake tries to turn Josh around to face him, but Josh doesn’t budge. From Josh’s perspective, he’s smacking his reflection with the tambourine while his reflection laughs and taunts him. 

JOSH: Your treacherous ridicule will never break me! 

Danny rushes to Josh’s side and drenches him with a bucket of ice water, finally snapping Josh out of his spell. He stumbles back from the glass a few steps and then holds at his head and grunts. 

JOSH: [dejected] I didn’t write the new song. I got distracted. 

SAM: Yeah, obviously. 

Josh looks Sam down in his banana costume. 

JOSH: Did Danny and Jake tell you about my chimpanzee song? Did you like it or something? Is this an act of solidarity? 

SAM: Wait, you wrote a song about chimpanzees? 

JOSH: James Hetfield told me to write about something that scares me. 

SAM: And you wrote about chimpanzees? 

JOSH: He shot down my idea about eighteen wheelers. 

Sam doesn’t know how to respond to this. 

JOSH: I’m sorry, you guys. I’m just not getting inspired in the right way. I don’t know if the lyrics are ever gonna come to me. 

DANNY: Hey, they will. It just takes some time. 

JAKE: I say we call it quits for the day. I wanna get out of here. 

JOSH: [finally taking in Jake’s face for the first time] You look like you saw a ghost. What’s up with you? 

JAKE: [whispering] That’s exactly what happened to me. 

JOSH: Okay, yeah, let’s get out of here. 

Jake and Josh move for the door but then stop when they realize Sam and Danny aren’t following behind them. 

JOSH: You guys coming? 

SAM: We’ll be right behind you, just give us a second. 

Jake and Josh shrug and leave Sam and Danny behind. They move down the hallway and, when they pass the haunted studio, clawing noises sound inside the door. Jake and Josh exchange a terrified look. 

JOSH: Is that? 

JAKE: Yeah. 

They’re both stuck in place, staring at the door in fear. The door starts to thump and spooky sounds come from inside the room. Before Jake or Josh can react, two sets of hands pop out of the door and drag them into the room. 

JOSH: Oh mama! 

Jake and Josh are standing in the dark as the door slams shut behind them. 

JAKE: Josh? 

A bunch of crashing noises sound and Jake lets out a yelp. 

JOSH: Sorry, I tripped over something. 

Jake fumbles for his phone and turns the flashlight on. Across from him he can see a panic-stricken Josh, his eyes darting around looking for danger. Jake slowly moves the flashlight around the studio, taking in the empty space, and then lets out a holler when he sees a shadowed figure standing in the corner of the room. Josh sees what he’s looking at and screams as well. 

JOSH: It’s a chimpanzee! 

JAKE: What? No, it’s a vengeful spirit! 

The shadowed figure starts to slowly move closer to them and Jake and Josh embrace in a tight hug, screaming. 

JOSH: [shrill] Stay back! 

JAKE: I’m gonna kick you so hard in the gonads! 

The shadowed figure stops about 20 feet away from Jake and Josh. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: [in a large and booming voice] Jacob Thomas Kiszka and Joshua Michael Kiszka! 

Jake and Josh scream at the top of their lungs, still hugging. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: You have continually trespassed on my territory. You must face a reckoning for your carelessness. 

JOSH: Would a simple sorry suffice? 

SHADOWED FIGURE: NO! 

Jake and Josh cower further. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: You must go through the spooky door to another dimension. 

JAKE: Oh god, no! Anything but that! 

The door to the studio flings open on its own. Strobe lights and smoke flood into the studio from the door and Jake and Josh shield their eyes in fear. They both back up against the wall farthest from the door.

SHADOWED FIGURE: Whatever you think is beyond that door, it’s worse. 

JOSH: [whispering to himself] Eighteen wheelers. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Three…

JOSH: Oh god not a countdown. 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Two…

JAKE: What do we do? 

SHADOWED FIGURE: One…

JOSH: It’s been nice knowing you, little bro. 

Jake whirls to face Josh. 

JAKE: By five minutes! 

SHADOWED FIGURE: Zero! 

Sam jumps between Jake and Josh, still in his banana costume. 

SAM: IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE HAS BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH MESOTHELIOMA - 

Jake and Josh jump about 4 feet in the air. 

JAKE AND JOSH: AAAAAAUUUGHHHHHHHHHH!!!

The lights to the studio flick back on and Jake and Josh are greeted by the sight of Sam and Danny standing in front of them, laughing hard. Danny is wearing a cloak, revealing him to be the shadowed figure. Jake pushes out of Josh’s embrace and storms up to Sam and Danny. 

JAKE: You need to start explaining yourselves now. 

Sam puts his hands up, guilty as charged. 

DANNY: I thought Sam was easy to prank, I guess it’s actually all the Kiszkas. 

SAM: It’s amazing what a voice changing microphone and some strobe lights can do. 

DANNY: And a fishing line. 

JAKE: A fishing line?

Sam moves over to the haunted water bottle, steps behind the piano, and tugs on a string, making the bottle lurch to the side. Jake stares, dumbfounded. 

JAKE: It was all you? 

Sam and Danny share a glance. 

DANNY: I mean, yeah. 

JAKE: Why I oughta…

Jake moves his foot back, ready to kick Sam and Danny with all of his might when Josh speaks up, capturing all of their attention. 

JOSH: I felt like such a massive chicken back there. But I think I finally understand what James was trying to tell me. I’m terrified of the unknown, of a feeling of hopelessness, where everything is crashing and burning around you, but you have to try and hold things together.  

SAM: My god, he’s doing it. 

Josh is already booking it back to his studio. 

JOSH: The lyrics are coming! They’re crowning! 

Jake looks back and forth between Danny and Sam like he still really wants to kick them, but ends up shaking his head and following behind Josh. Josh needs supervision in the studio moving forward - he can’t be left alone anymore. 

SAM: That was one hell of a prank, Danny. 

DANNY: I’m glad we could team up against Jake and Josh. They need a little humbling from time to time. 

SAM: I couldn’t have said it any better. 

Sam clasps Danny on the back and then motions towards the door. 

SAM: Wanna watch Josh’s creative genius at work? 

DANNY: I do like it when he yells, “BAJABULE!” every time he gets down a verse. 

Danny walks past Sam and moves through the door. Sam happily follows behind him. When Danny turns into the hallway, he subtly drops the banana peel that Sam had thrown in front of him earlier. Sam doesn’t notice and steps on it, slipping backwards and falling with a loud THUD. 

DANNY: Victory, baby!! 

SAM: [dramatically groaning from the ground] What a tragic end to a war. 

DANNY: Eat it! 

Danny does an impressive victory dance over Sam, who is still sprawled on the floor in defeat. Transition to Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam playing The Falling Sky in the studio. As the song finishes, they all come together. 

JOSH: For a while there, I really thought I would never be able to write a song again.  

DANNY: We’ve got a real winner on our hands. You know, like me. 

SAM: Drop it, Daniel. 

DANNY: I think you owe me something, Sam. 

Sam grumbles but takes his bass off, retreats to the side of the studio, and returns with a crown made out of bananas. He brings it to Danny and places it on his head. 

SAM: [emotionless] I hereby pronounce you, Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, King of the Pranks. All hail the king. 

Jake approaches Sam and Danny. 

JAKE: As a congratulations, I would like to extend my foot into both of your shins. 

As Jake is about to do this, the lights in the studio flicker out. 

JOSH: The same joke twice isn’t very funny, guys.

JAKE: I didn’t think it was that funny the first time around. 

DANNY: We didn’t do anything. 

SAM: Yeah, that wasn’t us. 

Chimp noises sound around the dark room. The band screams. 

END OF EPISODE

[rainnycloudstorm]

GhostFace x FemReader (NSFW 18+ Only!)

Warnings: DubCon, some violence, cussing, nsfw, smut, just a random GhostFace no explicit character.

Summary: GhostFace has been stalking you for days, watching you, remembering your daily tasks plotting his next move to strike in. You’ve heard about recent murders on the news so you take precautions but that wasn’t enough to stop him from getting you and what he wants…

You were hearing, watching the news of the latest outbreak of murders around your town growing more anxious, constantly looking over your shoulder, checking the locks on all the doors and windows of your home.

Tonight was like any other expect for the nasty thunderstorm raging on, and you were exhausted forgetting to check on the locks.

You laid in bed, passing out as soon your head hit your pillow. Only to be awoken by the feeling of your bed sheets being ripped off of you, you sat up; eyes still blurry from sleepiness once your vision focused you could see a tall, masculine man with a Ghost mask on. He stood at the end of your bed breathing heavily that you could hear it through the mask, his chest raising with each breath. You sat upright in complete silence,shock, and fear. “You’re not going to scream, or I’ll kill you right where you sit.” You looked at him, staring practically in a trance you couldn’t believe this was happening this had to be a dream right? “I’ve been watching you for some time now, I’m not much of a watcher but with you…” he paused, slowly crawling over the end of your bed, making his way to face you. “You’re just to pretty to kill…” He said as he lowered himself on your legs trapping you beneath him. “P-Please… please don’t hurt me…” You finally snapped out of your fear driven trance, your body beginning to shutter. “Oh… Oh… Shh…” He took his pointer finger and thumb gripping your chin pulling your face towards his mask. “I can’t promise you that, because I am going to hurt you…” His hand never leaving from your chin the other gripping at one of your wrists. You sat there shaking, but a part of you was beginning to feel warm feeling this strong and dangerous man sitting on your knees and gripping you so tightly was causing your uterus to tingle, but you didn’t want this guy to know. “Get off…” you said softly with a tremble in your voice, he chuckled quietly at your demand. “Oh Kitty… I plan to get off but…” He paused, moving his hand from your chin to run his gloved hand over your cheek tenderly but within one quick motion he gripped your neck causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “But you’re in no place to make demands princess.” He replied, pushing you back down by the neck. You tried to rip his hand away from your nape but it was no use he was to strong, to determined to get what he came for. He held his grip, using his other hand to raise your shirt to expose your bare breasts. “Heh… Well look at that, your nipples are already so hard, I bet your pussy is wet to hmm?” He chuckled in an obnoxious tone. You squirmed beneath him in protest, you could feel the heat raising on your cheeks and the way your pussy was already puckering in need. You couldn’t believe yourself, how could you possibly be turned on by this!? You thought to yourself. But before you knew it he hesitantly ripped down your shorts and panties with his free hand, taking his hands to lock them under your knees and forcing them up, pushing them into to chest. You gasped at his rapid action, “Stop! Please!” You yelled out, but he ignored your cries and protests. He adjusted himself over you moving his forearm beneath your knees keeping them pressed into your form. He slid his hand under his mask bitting onto the end of his glove tearing it off. “Look at the cute pussy.” He hummed out, taking his bare fingers to slide smoothly against your soaked folds. “Damn girl… You’re already so wet.” He growled out, you couldn’t help but let out a soft mewl. “That’s it princess, let it out.” He said with husky tone, you could tell his eyes beneath the mask were fixated on your heat. “You want it so badly, don’t you?” But before you could reply or protest you could feel his finger slamming into your cunt. You cried out in a moan, his finger thrusted into you hard and fast. You could feel the knot forming in your stomach, you were about to climax and he could tell. “Not yet little one! Not yet!” He growled out, you whimpered out at the discomfort of holding back. But he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to take you. He leaned backwards undoing his belt and ripping it out of his belt loops, swiftly undoing his jeans and lowering them just slightly letting his hard, thick cock spring out. He gripped it and began to stroke his cock while the tip pressed against the entrance of your wet, hot pussy. “Fuck…” he groaned out between gritted teeth, he slowly pushed it inside.

You could feel the stretch of his cock, it caused a shiver to run down your spine, the knot in your stomach becoming almost unbearable. “Fuck, you’re so tight and so goddamn wet.” He began to thrust into harder and faster, the sloppy wet sounds of his cock slamming into your raw cunt filled the room. The overwhelming knot forming within you, the smell of his musky scent, and his heavy breathing, light moans were to much to bare and with that you broke completely. “Oh my god! Fuck!” You screamed out in a moan, wrapping your arms around his back, nails digging into his shirt. “That’s it, let it go and cum for me kitty” He demanded, and with that you started to climax your insides trembling and spasming around his cock. You could feel his body shivering as you came around him, “That’s it baby…” He huffed out, leaning forward and wrapping a hand around your neck, his other hand gripped your hip while his chest pressed into yours. “You’re taking my cock so well.” He praised with an obnoxious attitude, you cried out in a moan, you were becoming to feel drowned in pleasure and pain your head started to feel light from the lack of blood flow. “I’m going to cum inside your tight little cunt.” He snarled, his hips were slamming into you so violently you knew you were going to be bruised. With one loud groan from him you could feel his dick pulsating inside you, the warmth of his seed filling you. “Fuck…” He sighed breathlessly, pulling himself out and placing his fingers on each side of your folds, spreading you open watching as his cum slowly spilled out of your abused pussy. You were speechless, shaking while you laid there your head was pounding. But to your surprise, he slowly raised his mask only exposing his mouth he was pale, and a black stubbly beard. He leaned in forehead kissing you deeply, biting down on your trembling lowering lip. “Don’t worry princess I’ll be back…” he smirked down at you, and giving your cheek a firm smack. He got up, fixing his jeans and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Walking towards the open window, he removed his mask completely but kept his back to you. He lit up a cigarette, with one long inhale he blew his smoke and said. “Next time I won’t be so gentle.” He chuckled and slipped out the window. Leaving you to lay there trembling, full of cum, and the smell of sex and smoke that burned your nostrils. Your mind wondered a thousand miles per hour, you couldn’t believe what just happened you couldn’t believe you enjoyed it and honestly you couldn’t wait for more…

[delightfulkingtyphoon]

Hi 😀

I'm going to share with you guys some headcanons I have of my dear, beautiful and wonderful princess Daniel Robitaille :3 (aka. Candyman)

❗Remembering❗

Everything I say here is my interpretations of the character and >>my<< headcanons about him. If you have another interpretation, agree or disagree, you are free to share your opinion in the comments 👍

Let's start

✿~Favorite hobbies, skills and talents

• Daniel Robitaille is a talented and very detailed artist. He always seeks to do the best in his paintings. He likes to put passion into everything he does.

He has loved painting since he was young, which is why he studied at the best schools of his time to create magnificent works. He enjoys learning and applying new techniques to his arts.

• In addition of learning the best painting techniques, he also learned to behave like a polite gentleman in the society, learning to dance, speak several languages and play an instrument.

Not that he needed to prove something to someone, but to challenge himself. He likes to learn new things.

• He knows how to lead a waltz like no one else. He is a gentleman from the 19th century, and at that time, if you wanted to conquer and impress the most beautiful women in the ballroom, you needed to know how to dance. And Daniel is the best in terms of charm and elegance when dancing.

• He is bilingual, knowing how to speak French perfectly and a little bit of German. He knows how to speak other languages such as Greek and Spanish, but due to lack of practice, he remembers very little of the lessons from his time.

• One of his favorite hobbies, besides painting, is literature. He loves romance and poetry books. His favorite type of romance is those that end in tragedy. For him, there is something poetic about death and love. If you mix the two in the right amount, it's a perfect dramatic love story.

• He was taught to play instruments such as piano and violin, but he was not very interested in learning that. He is more of a listener than a musician.

• He loved going to concerts and theaters when he was alive, his favorite type of music is serene, sweet as honey. And his favorite type of theater plays are mainly dramas. But he loves a good comedy.

✿~Favorite foods and colors

• Daniel Robitaille loves good food (and who doesn't, right?) He loves roast meats, savory pies, cakes and any type of sweet.

• He loves shortbread cookies accompanied by good coffee sweetened with honey. After all, he loves sweets and sugary things.

• His favorite type of sweet pie is lemon or cherry. He loves chocolate and strawberry cakes.

• He is also a fan of good wine. He likes the ones that don't have a very strong flavor more.

• He loves colors like yellow or red (he looks good in red.)

✿~Love, sexuality and relationships (and a little of lore)

• Daniel Robitaille was and IS a very charming, seductive and charismatic man. So much charm that he could have the most beautiful girls he wanted... And the most beautiful men too.

Daniel has been interested in many women of his time, even men, but he can never date or seem interested in any man, oh no. Never!

It was a difficult time for a black person, imagine a black and queer person. Bisexuality was something abominable in those times. Many desires were repressed, forcing him to hide in the shadows. But he found safety in the lips of his beautiful muse and beloved Caroline.

• Daniel loved Caroline like he never had before. His passionate young heart was emotional, and full of affection. The two loved each other very much and swore their love every day and night. For him and Caroline, their love was strong and not even that prejudiced society could separate them. Even after their deaths.

• Daniel after spending years wandering throughout the afterlife like a ghost, waiting for someone to summon him again, he found a shelter in the underworld so he could rest while waiting to be called again. There, he sympathized with a hideous demonic creature not receptive or pleasing to people's eyes, but to his, he was the most beautiful in all of hell. The Hell Priest Pinhead

• It took a while for the cenobite's heart to soften, but he was unable to resist Daniel's charms. The two fell in love and live off the pleasure of each other's love, the comfort in each other's arms. Daniel loves his beloved Pinhead intensely, just as he loves him just as much. Intense, pleasurable.

• Daniel can finally explore his sexuality, discovering new things about his own body and mind. Feeling and satiating every bit of what Pinhead had to offer him. Intensifying the love he felt for Pinhead and his pleasures. He loved him. He loved him so much that he chose to remain in hell with his beloved for all eternity. Even if someone summoned him again, and he went to the world of the living, he would always return to his beloved.

Bonus:

✿~Other things he likes

• Daniel loves cats. He always wanted to have cats when he was alive, that's his favorite type of animal. He acts tame when around kittens, always wanting to pet them and play with them.

• He also really likes birds, he likes to hear their serene singing when he is in the world of the living.

• He also likes butterflies, they are his favorite insect. He likes how their wings are colorful and have different patterns. It gives him a lot of inspiration to paint when he see one flying.

• He doesn't get along very well with dogs, they are too noisy and agitated for him, so he avoids them.

• He loves flowers, all kinds of flowers. He likes their colors, their smells. They are all beautiful to him. Red roses, lilies, hyacinths and chrysanthemums are his favorites.

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End of Headcanons (for now)