dark necessities.

dante rosales || 21 || the lover. “when love is not madness it is not love.”

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

Some days, Negan wondered how he ever lived without it. Murder and killing and drinking in the pain of others. He’d often wondered how he went so long thinking of other things, dealing with other things. How he had a life outside of planning his next kill or acting on the kill he’d planned was just something he couldn’t wrap his head around. Every problem Negan used to have seemed so small when he had an addiction so big to feed all the time now. It was consuming. His mother, Chuck, the abuse they brought, it had never been consuming. It was never something he gave much thought until he was forced to think about it. Act on it. 

Sometimes, when things got really dark and Negan forgot he wasn’t an animal, he could still hear them. The way his mother spat and chocked on his knife when he stuck it in her throat. The look of pure shock that she’d give Negan when he yanked his knife around and out. Her throat split and her blood was all over him. All over her. All over everything. She’d tried to say something, her hands scrambled to find away to stop the bleeding but it had been impossible and she died. She died so fast and she had started this addiction.

The same addiction that was driving Dante now. He grinned at the other man. “Y-you like th-that, sir?” He asked again because Negan kinda liked calling Dante sir. It gave him even more power than he already had. Gave him a title above Negan. Which was great. He wanted to feel powerless now. He wanted to feel out of control and he wanted Dante to feel like he had Negan’s life in his hands. Which he did. Negan could feel that. He loved it. He loved being so completely powerless. He felt it more as the knife traced across his scars. As if Dante was trying to decide which one he wanted to crack back open. Which one he wanted to see behind. Negan bite his lower lip as he waited for Dante to make up his mind. 

And when he did, Negan was thrilled. He tumbled back into the dirt and wrapped his legs around Dante’s waist tightly. His arms fell to Dante’s upper arms and held them lightly as he felt the cold steel of the others blade press against him. He smiled up at him. “N-not a m-muscle.” He promised but he didn’t know if he could keep it. Negan didn’t like fighting his bodies natural reaction to pain. They were different from most peoples but he liked to let things flow. When Dante pressed into his neck, Nega moaned. His eyes slipped shut and his hands tightened on Dante’s arms, nails digging into his skin, as he held on for the right. “F-fuck.” Negan shuttered as Dante pulled a little piece of him open and made him bleed. When Dante’s teeth took over, Negan’s hips bucked up into Dante and he nearly yelled the others name. His breath raspy and words like gravel from the chocking. “He-hell yes. F-fuck.” Negan cursed in a happy growl. “Ha-harder, Dante, pl-please.” Negan begged without thinking.

the two most perfect things he could do with someone were sex and murder, and it was only natural that combining the two had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. hell, the thought had even entered his fantasy life long before he had taken his first life, back when killing had been just that—fantasy. back when he hadn’t, for the life of him, ever imagined actually creeping out into the night and acting on it. back when it had satisfied him to keep those desires a thing of the mind instead of feeling the need to hunt and kill living, breathing individuals... back in times that had been a thing of the past for years now. 

but despite his experience in both activities, he had never actually been intimate with another man before—at least, not one that he meant to keep alive. it seemed that the weekend was full of new experiences, and all of them were up his alley. first he and negan had teamed up to slaughter mandy, and now he was able to  come close to doing the same to him... he doubted many people had the chance to almost kill their partner in crime. not like this. not in a way where both of them would benefit, where it was mutually satisfying. 

dante knew as soon as his lips closed around the wound in negan’s neck that there wasn’t any other outcome to the night. his partner had reacted much more favorably than anyone else he had sliced up, locking his legs around his waist and begging him to keep going, to make it hurt worse. needless to say, dante was eager to comply. he sunk his teeth further into the other man’s neck, moaning as he was rewarded with a fresh gush of hot blood. “you want it harder?” he hissed against his skin, tonguing the still-bleeding cut on the side of his throat. “you’ll get it.” raking his nails down negan’s side, he fumbled with the button on his jeans, scrambling to get them off as quickly as possible. he wanted to keep him in pain, but he also had needs of his own.

setting the knife off to the side, he lowered his other hand to help tear off negan’s pants, leaning in to capture him in another hungry kiss. he bit at his lower lip until he felt it bleed, sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue over the ragged bite. “i wanna break your fucking jaw,” he mumbled into the kiss, reaching to palm negan through his underwear. “i want it to hurt whenever you make a sound,” he shivered against him; “whenever you kiss me....” it was hard to resist the urge to just reach up and break his neck, to pound down on his chest until he felt his ribs crack, or hell—pick the knife back up and shove so far into his gut the handle imprinted against his skin... but he also knew he couldn’t do too much damage just yet. he needed to get his clothes off first, and then he could work on breaking negan down. “i want you to remember this night for the rest of your life.”

[dantercsales-blog]

memphisgreene:

Memphis laughed a sick and gleeful laugh as Dante kicked at the victim’s ankle. He let go of the man’s shoulder, watching him lurch and stumble, trying to keep his footing. “There you go!” He yelled, tauntingly encouraging, another peel of laughter erupting past his lips at the string of curses he got in response. At this point, he was sure the man was just doing it out of habit. It was probably hard to think of any other words while he was losing so much blood.

Memphis took a moment to consider the figure in front of him and what he wanted to do next. There were plenty of places left to cut and stab, but that would be expected. He could already see it on the man’s face that he was anticipating the feeling of a knife sinking into his flesh. He spun the knife around in his hand then slid it back into his pocket. He needed to take a different approach. 

Before the man could have time to figure out what he was doing, Memphis reached down to grab his bound hands and snapped one of his fingers, the cry causing him to grin and the man’s knees nearly buckled, but he stayed up. “You’re tougher than I thought.” Memphis told him, the tone in his voice almost sounded like he actually respected that. Memphis snapped another finger. “Good for you.”

dante sneered at the thought of their victim losing his footing, twisted amusement glittering in his eyes with each and every stumble. he knew that it had to have been terrifying to lose his footing when hitting the ground meant he would never rise again, and that fact alone was enough to whet his appetite for violence—the fact that they continued to torment him nearly sent him over the edge. after all, they had already hurt him quite badly. his stab wounds oozed steadily, the deep cuts in his abdomen and back already enough to ensure his inevitable death. hell, as blood loss continued to weaken him, he would have fallen on his own in the next hour or so.

but helping him along was where the real fun lied, especially with the anticipation of what his current killing partner would do next. he watched him with his knife gripped tight, waiting for him to lift it and choose another spot to slice open, only for him to tuck it back into his pocket. it was obvious he wasn’t done playing, but dante couldn’t help the flicker of confusion in his gaze—at least until the sharp snap of bone brought another sharp-toothed grin to his face. now there was perfection! the string of curses that tore themselves from their victim’s throat was almost unintelligible at this point, the unexpected change in violence no doubt having hurt worse.

the fact that fingers were particularly sensitive couldn’t have helped any. “i’m almost impressed you didn’t flop over the first time,” he cooed into the man’s ear, a breath of laughter escaping him as memphis snapped another finger. “but those are only fingers. i wonder if you’d be able to keep your footing if we broke something bigger.” it was an amusing thought, and only took slightly more thought to put into action. the human body had two-hundred-and-six bones, most of them in the hands and feet. the neck and skull were (mostly) off limits, the legs were too easy, but everything else was fair game. sliding his own knife back into his pocket, dante stooped over to pick up a reasonably sized rock. “you know how much force it takes to break a rib?” he asked, of course not looking for an answer. “let’s find out!” and with that, he slammed the right side of their victim’s chest, watching as his knees wobbled horribly beneath the strain.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

The simple fact of the matter was that Negan didn’t fear death in the slightest. He didn’t fear pain. He didn’t fear any of it. In fact the whole thing was thrilling. It set him on edge in the best way possible. Death was exciting to him. The moments before it felt like the start of a rollercoaster ride. Edging slowly up to the top of a big drop that was bound to have most screaming. He wanted to ride that death ride over and over again. He wanted to be close to Death. To touch it and breath it in. He wanted to come back from it and do it all over again. He wanted to cry because the pain was good as he edged towards deaths door. Knocked on it. Yelled for death to answer and sprit away at the last second. 

Dante didn’t scare him. The hand on his throat, teeth on his skin, it didn’t scare him. It turned him on. It made him want to get the holy hell fucked right out of him. Negan couldn’t wait to feel how Dante was going to rip him up. He couldn’t wait to see how far they’d go. How far they’d push it. In the back of his mind Negan knew that he couldn’t get as close to death as he might want to. Nothing around for miles meant that he could easily fall off the ride completely. While death didn’t scare him, he didn’t exactly want to go the full nine yards. Not yet anyway. He was having to much fun pushing others over the edge still.

Gasping, Negan’s voice rasped as Dante’s hand tightened on his throat. He felt his head spin as the blood to his brain was also being slowed in the most delightful way. He blinked a few times, tears starting to well in his eyes involuntarily. He didn’t fight them either. It was his bodies natural reaction to what Dante was doing. Some saw it as weakness but Negan always thought it was beautiful. Soon enough he’d be doing the same thing with screaming. He’d let it happen. As loud as he wanted. Why stop something so natural? His hand moved from Dante’s hair to his wrist and his blunt nails dug into the other man’s skin. He didn’t push Dante off or tell him to stop but simply took it and enjoyed it. The strain on his throat an lungs mixed with the spin in his head was one of the best feelings he’d ever had. 

Suddenly he was free and Negan sucked in deep full breaths. His hand smoothing over his throat as the other pushed himself up a bit. “L-love a ma-man who k-knows what he wa-wants.” Negan teased lightly, his voice sounding much more raspy than before. “Y-yes, sir.” He cooed at Dante before reaching down and pulling his shirt up over his head. Tossing it behind him, Negan lay back on his elbows. His body was covered in lean muscle, soft pale skin, and dotted with freckles and moles. Connecting them all were thin, white scar lines. Most of which he’d done to himself when he couldn’t hold back his cravings anymore. A few were from his step father but he oped not to think about that now. Thoughts of Chuck made Negan want to Up-Chuck and that would be a real mood killer.

the power to hold the decision of who lived and who died in his hands was more than intoxicating—it was necessary. every aspect of his life had slowly changed to chase his desire to play god, from the nightlife he had cultivated, to the people he associated with, to the jobs he picked up... very little in his day to day life had nothing to do with his sadistic escapades. and why would it? now that he had tasted death itself and developed his cravings, it was nearly impossible for him to focus on much else. the girls he strung along bored him. the idea of going back to school bored him. hell, even the notion of just living without murder was horribly unpleasant.

during times like this, where he held another person down and watched as their body fought against each and every one of his decisions continued to remind him of why. it was such a rush of power, of arousal, to see negan choke and gasp and cry against his grasp that if he hadn’t been so eager to continue he might have accidentally held on too long—not long enough to kill, but the temptation to watch as his eyes rolled back and his brain shut down was hard to ignore. luckily for the both of them, other desires were able to pull him back just enough to keep his mind on the infliction of pain rather than just the satisfaction of choking him out.

even so, even as dante’s hand had left his throat he hoped it had hurt. he hoped negan’s lungs had begun to burn and that darkness had begun to creep into the edges of his vision. “sir?” he asked, a teasing (but satisfied) note in his tone. “i like that.” more than that, he liked the rasp in his voice—a clear sign that his hand alone had been enough to subtly harm him. what power! he watched eagerly as negan shed his shirt, his eyes skittering over every inch of his skin as soon as he revealed his torso, tracing over each and every scar he found there. he would open them up soon, make sure that each time he saw them he was reminded of tonight. with the ego that he had, it was hard for dante not to want to be the only thing on negan’s mind, especially when it came to the pain that he could inflict upon him—and anyone else.

tracing the edge of his knife up along negan’s sternum, he pondered over where to cut him first. it would be easy to give into his basal instincts and slice into his abdomen, but his throat looked too unmarked for his liking... after a split second pause to make his decision, he pinned negan back down against the dirt and held his blade against his neck, grinning down at him. “don’t move too much,” he purred, a less rational side of him almost hoping he would squirm against him; “i don’t want to cut too deep.” without another word, he carefully sliced into the side of negan’s throat, pulling the knife away only to replace it with his teeth, biting and sucking hard at the wound he had made. it wasn’t enough that he would bleed, he wanted him to feel it.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

For a moment, Negan thought he might have just died and gone to heaven. Which was a pretty big surprise as he was sure he was going hell. Well, thats assuming there was any sort of afterlife. He didn’t really believe there was one but he wasn’t stupid. If there was a god, he didn’t make Negan. He didn’t want him back either. If anything he’d rather be in hell. They’d probably have a lot more fun down there. But with Dante on top of him, kissing him, biting him, Negan was starting to reconsider that whole no afterlife thing. Maybe this was hell? His skin burned against Dante’s touch hot enough to suggest hell fire.

And then those teeth curled around his lip and Negan moaned around it. The tingles of pain shot down his throat and his hands tightened into fists in Dante’s hand and around his shirt. He winced lightly and then Dante had him all over again. The kiss deeper, hotter, darker than before. As if Dante was trying to kill him with a kiss. Trying to take everything Negan was down his throat. He wanted to let Dante do it too. Take everything. His pain and pleasure, goddamn it, he could have it all. Another sound. A low growl came from the back of Negan’s throat. Low and happy and uncontrolled. He’d always been someone who couldn’t shut up at times like this. Other sexual partners had ganged him to shut him up but now Negan’s mouth was only occupied by Dantes. 

When Dante’s hand found his throat, Negan moaned again. His lips fighting to keep contact. He pressed back against the hand on his throat and the pressure that Dante put their. He wasn’t afraid of hurting Negan. He wanted too and Negan was more than excited. He was elated. He was fucking high off it. He’d uttered those words to a couple of different people and they always seemed so scared. Worried they hurt him too much and he wished they would. But Dante. Oh no, Negan drank in his words like an alcoholic sucked down his first beer of the night. 

“If it-its no-not g-going t-to hurt really f-fucking bad, d-don’t bother.” Negan challenged him with a wheeze to his voice. The hand on his throat still allowed him to breath but not easily. He twisted under Dante, hooked a leg up on his hip and pressed a slow grind to the others crotch just to show off how excited he was to be just were he was. “I wa-wanna scream.” He whispered before letting his head fall back against the ground, amber eyes watching to see what the hell Dante was going to do next.

unlike the newly-rotting corpse beside them, it was obvious that negan relished in every bit of discomfort dante could offer. the bite against his kiss, the hand around his throat—it was only a taste of what he was capable of, but it seemed to be well appreciated all the same. it was almost strange to have a partner that didn’t shy away the minute he began to get too rough with them, and he had to wonder exactly how far he could go before his arousal died to genuine fear. could he choke him until he saw stars? could he beat him until his skin blackened and his bones cracked? could he slice him open until his skin paled and his lips turned blue? just how willing was negan to tempt fate, to approach the brink of death?

it was, after all, what he was asking for. begging for. dante couldn’t possibly have bothered with anything less than serious pain, and while he knew that it was risky to do anything out in the backwoods, far away from help... asking him to control himself would have been pointless. it was rare that dante even tried to dabble in restraint and while high on the satisfaction of taking a life, reveling in the opportunity to defile two people in one night... there was no way in hell that he was willing to try. but given how negan had responded so far, he doubted that there would be any genuine complaints on his end—he wasn’t as weak-willed as everyone else he had fucked.

the way he melted into his touch, the way he encouraged the pressure on his windpipe, continued to prove that to him. in response, he squeezed tighter, wanting to hear each gasp and wheeze that he could manage to force from his restricted throat. he wanted to hear him lose his breath, to feel his fingernails scrabble against his chest and arms as he fought to keep himself alive—and then he wanted to watch him revel not in that he had let him go, but in the fact that he very nearly hadn’t. finally breaking the kiss to suck in a breath of air, dante stared down at negan with a predatory hunger in his eyes, lifting the hand that had scrabbled for the knife and using its tip to trace along the edge of his shirt. “i want you to scream, too.”

there was an almost unbearable temptation to slice open his belly like he had mandy’s, but he attempted to satisfy himself with gently tracing it up along his shirt. it was more difficult to resist the more his partner squirmed and ground against him, but for the moment he was able to keep from literally ripping him open. “shirt off,” he growled, releasing his throat for just long enough to allow negan to tear off his top. he hated working through clothes and he hated it more when it got in the way of his satisfaction. 

[dantercsales-blog]

memphisgreene:

As Memphis caught the body that had been shoved towards him, he barked out a laugh. There was nothing he loved more than a good game and Dante had just offered him one. “How many stabs does it take to knock a man over?” Memphis chimed, a sadistic riddle rolling off his gleeful tongue. “How long do you think you can last?” He asked victim in his arms, getting only profanity in response. He still had some fight in him. Good. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to keep this fun.

“I’ll tell you what,” Memphis started, lips at the victim’s ear, but his eyes stayed trained on Dante’s, “if you can stay standing until we’re done, I’ll cut you free.” There was no point in making the bargain, the man was as good as dead now, but desperation was a powerful motivator and Memphis knew it. “What do you say?” He asked, urging the victim to agree. Make the deal with the devil. Play the game. He waited for the confirmation, the affirmative response, before moving. His eyes, dancing with delight, stayed intensely fixed on Dante, his teammate for this playtime fun. He raised his hand and sunk his knife into the front of the man’s unwounded shoulder.

Pulling his instrument free, he took a step back, keeping the meatbag steady with one hand as the bloody tip of his blade rested against his lip. “Come on, we’re just getting started. You want to go home, don’t you?” He taunted, waiting for Dante to move in to take his turn.

although his will to physically fight had come to an end, the string of profanity proved that they hadn’t broken him just yet. it was just as well, too—the game wasn’t nearly as fun when the recipient just laid down and died. it had always been more entertaining to watch as survival instinct influenced their decisions, to watch as they clung to each bit of false hope that came into view. and what better way to motivate them than to contribute to that? what better way to make sure they didn’t give up too soon than to dangle the one thing they wanted—survival—right in front of their faces? it would have been stupid for their victim to refuse.

of course, the proposed bargain wasn’t going to get this man out alive. the wound in his abdomen would kill him long before they were done—dante gave him a few hours before he bled out from it alone, at most—and a few simple stabs wouldn’t satisfy either of them. “you should take the deal,” he suggested, his eyes shifting between memphis and the knife in his hand. “i mean, the only other choice is to lay down and die.” the statement got him another fuck you from the pathetic sack of flesh, but nonetheless, both killers had a point. even with their deception, there were only two options to the game: try or die. 

dante watched with a widening grin as memphis sunk his knife into their victim’s shoulder, biting back a laugh as a fresh stream of curses spewed from the man’s mouth. he really was fond of profanity, wasn’t he? “keep those legs steady, man,” he said, stepping forward to slash deep into his back; “you don’t want to trip.” as he spoke, he knocked the side of his shoe against their victim’s ankle, causing him to lurch slightly to one side. god, this was almost too easy.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

When Dante didn’t moved back against him right away, Negan wasn’t exactly happy. A slight panic, one he didn’t show (or tried not to) ran through him. Maybe he’d read those looks wrong? Maybe he’d been seeing things that weren’t there? His mind was a messy place, after all, sometimes things got twisted around and made into something they weren’t. His jaw tightened and he expected to be hit. This day and age didn’t exactly throw its arms open to those who where attracted to the same gender. Movements were being made but it was still pretty normal to have a gay bashing happen. Negan half expected to get hit as soon as this kiss ended but then it didn’t end.  Dante kissed him back. He’d already made the move to sit back but he felt it just before he parted with the other man. The fact that he hadn’t lashed out and called him ever slur in the book was enough for Negan to consider it a win. Besides that he was still high from killing Mandy and nothing was going to bring him down from that now. Not even a beating. Instead he was ready to get up and leave Dante to mull over what had just happened in that pretty little head of his. He was about to stand up straight when suddenly his forward momentum was going backwards.  Negan fell hard and grunted when his back hit the ground. Suddenly hands on his face and lips on his lips. Oh, okay, so this was still going fantastically. His one hand grabbed the front of Dante’s shirt and pulled him in closer while the other spread blood into his hair. His fingers twisting into those dark locks as he held him close, kissed him hard. Dante wasn’t Negan’s first. Not even close. But in away he sort of was a first. Till know Negan had only ever been with boring men. They satisfied his need to get off but this was different. They’d just killed together. There was nothing dull about that. Negan’s lips tingled as he kissed Dante back, matching his ever move as his legs fell apart. That way Dante could be on top of him, be closer to him, easier.  After a long moment, Negan’s head fell back against the ground and he sucked in a deep breath of air into his needy lungs. His hands kept Dante close. His fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, tightening his hold. He amber eyes landed on Dante’s dark brown ones. Hell, they almost looked black in this lack of light. “H-hurt m-me.” Negan told him in a low tone. HIs stutter worse than normal simply because he was so excited to have this particular man on top of him. He leaned up then and took this lips with his own once more. This kiss was different than before. This was harder, more demanding. He needed Dante like his skin needed cold steel now. 

there had been very few times in dante’s life where he had felt genuinely intimate with someone. sure, he had strung along girlfriends before, put some effort into working on the relationships, but when it came down to it they were as easily replaced as tires on his car—almost none of them had served any purpose other than to give him something to break. those that had been held in any higher regards had been gutted deep in the backwoods around his home, giving him a temporary feeling of closeness to someone that most others simply couldn’t relate to. after all, how many people in the world felt more intimate with a corpse than a living, breathing person? even before he delivered the killing blow, those he murdered felt more like pieces of flesh to him alive than they ever did after death.

but he had also met very, very few people that could share in his passions, and fewer still that he could ever imagine accepting his advances without reminding him of exactly how many slurs could be attributed to his name. no matter how many fantasies he had toyed with, the idea of bringing any of them into the real world had been saved specifically for those he had actually planned to kill. in their club, slaughtering mandy had been perfectly acceptable. he couldn’t have been totally sure that what he did next still kept him in a favorable light... but as long as the low light and the underbrush made discovery difficult, as long as the others were more concerned with the game than with what each other were doing... he didn’t see any reason to stop.

not when he had the chance to satisfy himself more completely.

dante continued to kiss negan hungrily, biting down hard on his lower lip to try and force a gasp, a moan, a yelp—anything that would let him know that it had hurt. anything that would give him the chance to shove his tongue down his throat. after all, this wasn’t meant to be a tender kiss shared in the rain; this was rough and domineering and born out of a very similar feeling of desire that drove him to commit capital sin. it was the kind of kiss that he hadn’t really ever shared with anyone before, not with anyone who he had planned to let walk away after he was done... even then, those people were rarely in a state of mind to enjoy the experience. this was different. this time, his partner was meant to do so much more than live through the night.

he groaned against negan’s lips as he felt him smear blood into his hair, the scent of death already seeming to envelope the both of them. a low noise of protest escaped him as the kiss was broken, but it died in his throat the second they locked eyes. hurt me. the words sent heat straight down low in his belly—had anything more perfect ever been said to him in his life? as negan leaned up to pull him into another kiss, dante snaked a hand around his throat, gripping it tightly enough to be uncomfortable. “you want me to hurt you?” he growled, his voice low and raspy. “you want me to hurt you real fucking bad?” he bit and sucked at his partner’s lips, his free hand searching the dirt nearby for one of their knives.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

When Dante sliced Mandy up, Negan’s attention flicked down to her stomach for a moment. He’d simply never heard a human make that sound before and he needed to see what had done it. What had cut her screaming and laughing out completely. She wheezed, like she couldn’t feel anything anymore, and went limp under Dante. Negan’s eyes watched as his partner in crime dug around inside of her and pulled those insides out. Mandy moaned and her head fell back against the ground. Negan leaned against Dante’s side a bit to get a better look at the whole picture. His own hand pushed inside of her and brushed over Dante’s hand as he felt her insides.  They were so warm, and Negan made a happy hum sound as his eyes moved back up to her face. He squeezed her intestinal track and saw no movement. She twitched after a moment, her nerves dying as she lay on the ground. She was dying now. She’d been dying for awhile but now she was really setting up on deaths door. Negan sat forward, his hand from inside her moving to the back of Dante’s neck and squeezing lightly.  “Sh-she’s going.” He bite out. Excited and buzzing from watching her eyes slowly glaze over. The brightness of them fading till they went dull and dark. So dark. Nothing of her was left. Mandy was gone and now their was only what they’d made her into. Negan was on top of the world. His face broken into a bright smile, heart pounding in his chest as he watched her face go slack, her body limp under Dante. His throat felt tight and his body hot despite the rain and the cold of the night all around them.  Negan twisted around without thinking. He pushed himself up a bit and kissed Dante without a second thought. He wasn’t thinking about anything other than those eyes fading and that they had simply made that happen like it was some sort of game. A game they’d just won together. Negan nipped at Dante’s lips, pulled the bottom one between his teeth and bite him. Not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to suggest he wanted to make him bleed. He ate up the moment, drank Dante in and then pulled back. He sat on his heels and then smiled softly. “W-we have t-to do th-this again s-sometime.” He breathed, chest heaving. 

her internal organs didn’t have the same nerve endings that her skin did, but dante was fairly sure that she was still feeling most of what was going on. it was impossible to miss the way the two of them explored her insides, the way each movement causing more blood to ooze out of the ragged hole in her middle, the way sadistic excitement had painted itself across their expressions... even in the daze of near-death, he wanted to believe she was suffering horribly. he wanted to believe that her pain was constant and that she would exit the world of the living in as much agony as physically possible. how could she not when they had torn her open? how could she not when they had ended her life so gruesomely, so inhumanely. 

ironically, dante almost missed the actual moment of death itself, pulled away from his fascination with her insides only by the feeling of a warm, bloodied hand on the back of his neck. he shot a brief glance in negan’s direction, the mild spark of confusion in his eyes quickly replaced by the sinister glow of malice. it was time. she was dying. he set his sights on her face, leaning in to watch as her eyes seemed to cloud over with death, the shallow rattling of her breath finally fading into silence—she was gone. almost instantaneously, all the tension and desire that had built up and gnawed at him seemed to flood out of his system, a fantastic sense of relief filling in to take its place. he released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, pleased that he had scratched his itch, so to speak, and that their game had gone well.

being self-centered, dante was so focused on his own internal response that he almost forgot negan was beside him—at least until he twisted around to surprise him with a kiss. admittedly, his first instinct was to freeze. sure, he had run through his fantasies even while working on their victim, but he had also been under the impression that negan (and the other men in their club) were decidedly not interested. he was the real deviant, after all, wasn’t he? there was killing and then there was being socially unacceptable. both had their consequences. that was why he normally kept his distance, convinced that his peers would reject him—and knowing that if he tried and failed that he would have to kill them just to keep them from spilling that secret.

for once, he was glad he was wrong.

but the exact second he had unwound and leaned into the kiss, negan pulled back. we have to do this again sometime. honestly, dante thought that was a bit of an understatement. “yeah...” he trailed off, staring at his partner with shock still written in his expression—and a very predatory hunger visible just underneath. a moment later he managed to compose himself, taking a moment to make a split second decision—did he really want to do this? the answer was obvious. without even taking another breath, dante tackled negan back into the dirt, clamped his blood-soaked hands on either side of his face, and crushed their lips back together.

[dantercsales-blog]

memphisgreene:

Memphis watched, or more observed, the way the victim thrashed about, curses turning to whimpers as confusion replaced rage. The silence seemed to almost comfort him, like maybe he’d misunderstood the wound at his side. Memphis wondered if he thought he’d walked into a tree or something else more ridiculous, it was so easy for some people to convince themselves of anything so long as it was the opposite of what they feared.

As Dante approached, Memphis’ attention moved from the victim to him. He watched the way he moved, what muscles tensed and which relaxed, where his eyes moved and how the pupils widened like a hungry animal. He wondered if that’s what he looked like. He took a deep interest in how the other killer moved his knife, how it slipped in through flesh, and took a breath, the familiar excitement building in his chest again. 

He took the opportunity that presented itself when the victim swung at Dante, distracted, and dug his knife into the back of his shoulder. The cut this time was harsh and Memphis pulled the knife free aggressively, not waiting as he probably should’ve before plunging his knife into flesh at the victim’s back. He barred his teeth in a sinister grin, the sweet sounds of howls of pain and pleading like music to his ears, and he lifted his hands to shove the body towards Dante. An offering. A shared toy. Like breaking bread between friends.

it was amusing how their blinded victim tried to defend himself, each swing only seeming to bring him closer to his fate. the instant he had tried to swipe at dante, memphis had used the opportunity to stab him deep in his shoulder—the howl it had pulled from him had nearly sent him to his knees with how perfect it was. it was clear that this man would die without too much trouble, his willingness to fight back being ripped away with each slice. the first bout of thrashing had been wild and uncontrolled, something that might have stung if they had managed to get a hit in. the second swipe had been pitiful, but it had been something, at least. by the time the knife had been dug into his back a second time, their target didn’t even try to swing at them.

to their credit, it was difficult to fight with a blade sunk in his back. difficult, but not impossible. dante wondered if his fighting instincts would improve any as time went on, but with how pathetic their victim had already become, he seriously doubted it—not that it made anything less entertaining. unlike their wounded friend,  dante was having the time of his life. he had killed with the club once before, as a group, but despite that perfection there was something more challenging about their game. having to hunt down and make sure six victims didn’t escape to reveal their deeds to the rest of the world had placed higher stakes on things, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good risk. of course, he knew they would come out on top.

as soon as memphis, horrid (absolutely perfect) grin and all, shoved their victim toward him, he leaned forward to sink his knife into his lower abdomen, grinning back at his partner behind his shoulder. the victim in question let out a low groan, blood darkening his already dirtied shirt the moment dante pulled the knife free from his body. “how many stabs do you think he can take before he flops over?” he asked, a note of disturbing glee in his tone. “let’s find out.” without another word, he shoved the body back toward memphis, a bark of laughter escaping him as he watched the victim try to keep himself from falling over.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

It always took so long to get this reaction out of them that Negan had very rarely done it. He normally started down this path, his favourite method of killing was stabbing. It always had been. Right from the first moment he’d sunk his knife into his mothers neck.  He’d tried other things but nothing felt as personal and picking the a spot on someone, for them, and sinking a blade down into it. Not even chocking someone out with his own hands gave him that same satisfaction. Nothing did. He was in his bliss now. Having gotten this far to show Dante what he could do. This was art. Negan’s art. He made her laugh because she was in so much pain. He broke her body and now her mind. He liked to think that if she survived she’d end up like them. Like the others in the killing club. Broken and ready to break. He twisted the knife in her stomach again and smiled. “She r-really d-does.” Negan agreed because she was kicking again. Laughing as she twisted under him. As if he was tickling her not stabbing her. While some other might have gotten angry at being laughed at, Negan couldn’t help but giggle along with her. Her laugh was infections and her new found madness was like honey on his tongue. Sweet. The only thing that broken his own laughter was Dante taking her blind fold off. As soon as her eyes were exposed, Negan’s amber ones found them. Deep and blue and utterly gone. He would have loved to know what they’d been like before this point just to know how far gone she really was. He wished he’d known her gaze before now, although, now was good too. Her wide blue eyes looked at him like he was Lucifer himself. Like he was so hot he was cold. Her skin burning up under his touch. She smiled though, and Negan smiled back. He may not have been lucifer but he was sure as hell dragging her pretty ass down to hell. “N-no.” He shook his head a bit. “I-I wanna wa-watch h-her lights g-go out.” Negan explained. Dante could take her eyes if he wanted but Negan rarely did anything to peoples eyes. Instead he did move off of her so that Dante could take his place.  Sitting down on the ground next to her, Negan pushed his fingers into a cut on her shoulder and twisted them around. He pulled at her flesh and giggled again when she broke into laugher. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at him. “M’N-negan. N-not th-that it m-matters.” He told her in a smooth tone.  “Mandy.” She laughed and screamed as he pressed into another one of her cuts.  “You ma-made my n-night M-mandy.” Negan cooed as if he was flirting with her. Like he was trying to get her back to his place.  Mandy laughed again, coughed on a bit of blood. “Go to hell.” She managed as blood dripped down her chin and neck.  “Ra-race you th-there.” Negan winked at her before looking back over at Dante for just a moment. He didn’t want to miss it. When she died and her eyes went all glazed. He always enjoyed that moment so much more than anything leading up to it.

excitement thrummed through his veins like electricity as he crawled onto her legs to replace negan, listening to her broken bones crackle beneath his weight. as entertaining as tormenting her had been, this was was always the best part of any murder—making the final move to watch them die. in his few years of killing, his methods had varied some, ranging from strangulation to bludgeoning, to stabbing, but few things had given him as much pleasure as slicing them open. of course, he couldn’t do that until he was actually ready for them to cross over, being that people rarely lived very long after he had turned them inside out. a few minutes at most.

dante had to wonder how long she would last, how long she would be able to cling to life before the light finally dimmed in her eyes. it was different for every person, after all, completely dependent on how willing they were to survive. judging by her hysterics and desperate pleading, he was willing to bet her fight for survival would be over quite quickly—she didn’t seem like the sort of person that was strong enough to battle through the haze of pain and blood loss. “okay,” he said, glancing up at negan for a quick second before he began to cut through the bloodied remains of her shirt. “watch close. she’s gonna give up any minute now.”

as soon as he had flung the scraps of clothing aside, he drove his knife deep into her diaphragm and tore down all the way to the edge of her waist, watching eagerly as blood immediately gushed up from the ragged wound. at this point, she didn’t even laugh—the sound that escaped her sounded more like a squelching wheeze. “you ever seen what guts look like when they’re still moving?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. “they’re fucking great.” without another word, he dug his hands into her abdomen and spread her open, revealing everything down from her ribs to her large intestine, the latter still slowly squeezing along its path.

digging his knife in to hold one side of her flesh in place, he dipped a hand into the gray-red mess of her abdomen and tugged up her small intestine, feeling through part of it. “how’s she doing up there, negan?” he asked, letting them drop back into her with a plop. she was still alive for the moment, that was clear, but it wouldn’t be long before she drifted off into the void—and he’d be able to see it happen right through her ribcage, the shallow beat of her heart slowing to a permanent stop. after that, he’d finally be fully satisfied with the kill... and later on, when the craving reared its head, he would be able to return and appreciate their work all over again.

[dantercsales-blog]

childliike:

JD frowned. “That seems… inconvenient,” He said after some thought. Hank had been like that. ( Was still like that, maybe. ) He took blonde women because he found them the most attractive. But Hank didn’t just kill women, he kidnapped them. He held them in the cellar for months, abused them in every way imaginable, and of course, that included sexually. Dante didn’t do that. Or at least, JD didn’t think he did. If he had a cellar full of people, wouldn’t he have shared that with the group? Besides, captives required so much space and upkeep. It seemed unlikely.

So, if he wasn’t doing what Hank did, what did he do? He didn’t seem like a virgin, but JD wasn’t actually sure what virgins seemed like. Could people tell he was a virgin? Most people didn’t think about it, he supposed. He didn’t usually think this much about it either, but now his mind was whirring with questions. “If you kill people you’re attracted to, does that mean you don’t have sex? Or do you have sex first, and then kill them? But then what if you want to have sex with them again? Don’t you…”

Oh. Oh. A new idea popped into JD’s head, making his eyes go wide and his lips break into a nervous grin. It’s not like he’d never wondered what it felt it like, how could he not? He just figured it was one of those boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, something frowned upon even in this crowd. But if could just get a little insight… “Unless— You don’t—”  He looked around them quickly, dropping his voice to an excited whisper. “Do you have sex with them after you kill them?”

dante had never actually had an in-depth conversation with jd, and while murder in and of itself was certainly a topic he had broached with the others... there was a point where he tended to let the conversation putter out. everyone was in the club for their own personal reasons, of course, and it was implied that there was meant to be some sort of respect for each others’ motives, but dante had always figured there were certain lines in the sand. he could talk about how much he wanted to gut someone; he wasn’t interested in going into the internal details on why. 

“it’s not, i just—“ he broke off, struggling to find an explanation that didn’t fall into personal details. it was bad enough that he had already said it and the fact that jd was so talkative all of the sudden wasn’t helping. dante had genuinely expected his answer to send him walking in the opposite direction, ready to avoid both his defensiveness and any implications of what he had said—you know, the typical reaction he would expect. as it turned out, overlooking the fact that he seemed socially stunted had been a gigantic, catastrophic mistake on his part,

something in his lizard brain had sent off a warning signal the second jd’s face had split into a nervous smile, and like the fool that he was he had decided to ignore that. unfortunately, that meant the absolute second the question registered in his mind he was rendered almost mute—for several, long seconds he stared at him in a state of shock. and then embarrassment turned his face such a deep shade of red that his first instinct was to bury his head in his hands. god, why hadn’t he just fucked off and followed that boy? “what kind of—what kind of question is that? i am not having this conversation with you, holy shit.”

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

When Dante looked at him again, Negan felt his heart jump up into his throat and hold it closed for a moment. Stupid, right? A killer, a monster, getting chocked up with one look from one beautiful boy? He shouldn’t have cared but dear god did he. His mind went places so quickly it was like he’d skipped falling asleep and had gone straight into dreaming. He could almost feel Dante pushing him off of her and on to the ground. Almost feel the others nails scratching him, and those teeth marking him. Negan’s mouth filled with the familiar taste of iron as he imagined biting Dante’s lip. Pulling it down between his teeth and sinking in. He could feel his back getting cold from being pressed into the wet ground and his chest hot against Dante’s. He could hear her trying to get up and run but all she’d get is more screams as she failed and killed next to them. Her screams probably echoing his own as time went on.  He could hear his clothing ripping, and low curses mumbled between gasps of air. Gasps and wheezes as hands curled around his neck. Negan blinked.  Fuck. “Y-yeah.” Negan agreed because red was his colour. Negan wanted that colour all over him. He was thankful that Dante broke their eye contact because he probably could have kept looking at him, at those hungry eyes till she bleed out and that would not have been nearly as much fun as what they had planned. He turned his attention back towards the girl and slid his knife back into her body. Negan didn’t do much waiting as he found it was leading to other thoughts. Instead he focused his movements on the left side of her body for the most part. His hand stayed over her lips till he heard it suddenly start to pour out of her. A scream and then a giggle. A cry and then a bubble of blood on her lips followed by laugher.   He looked over at Dante. “T-told you. Y-you li-like it don’t y-you sweetheart.” Negan teased as he shoved his knife down into her gut. He left it there as she burst into hysterical laugher. Negan smiled brightly, let out a bit of a laugh of his own before twisting his knife inside her and enjoying what sounds she made now. “Feels g-good d-don’t it? Th-the pain?” He asked as she sputtered. “I’ll Ta-take th-that as a-a yes.”

despite his focus on self-discipline, dante hadn’t missed the subtle changes in negan’s expression, the way fantasy glossed over his eyes. an egocentric part of him hoped that he had been its focus, that he wasn’t the only person among their club that had differences unrelated to murder, but his head argued that it was obvious he was more focused on their current activities than on himself. how could he not have been? how could he have been thinking of anything other than the beautifully broken young woman beneath him, still writhing and shrieking with each new slice that was etched into her skin? it would almost have been silly to focus on the one person that (presumably) wasn’t fair game—he tried to remind himself of that, too.

the stripe of drying blood on his jaw didn’t make things easy, but the allure of murder helped to pull him back toward more realistic desires. while negan had seemed to satisfy himself with her left side, dante took her right, carving into her skin with more enthusiasm with each reaction he received—and oh, did she react! as pathetic as her choked sobs and wails were, each new note of agony that pulled itself from her throat was more exciting than the last. it felt cliche to admit, but screams truly were music to his ears—no other sound could ever compare. 

aside from hysterics, that was. the instant the first bought of laughter spilled from her lips he snapped to attention, watching as blood began to dribble down her chin. had negan hit a lung? “oh, she loves it,” he growled, his face splitting in an almost painful grin. weakened by blood loss and utterly broken from pain, any chances that she would ever survive the game were torn to shreds. even if god himself intervened to save her life, she would never be the same—she would have been haunted by this encounter for the rest of her life. luckily for her, the chances of the rest of her life stretching longer than another hour were very, very slim.

“here,” he began, finally cutting away at the blindfold around her eyes; “you should do something with those.” he gestured with his blade toward her now-uncovered eyes, making sure to admire the terror that still sparkled within them. “i bet she would like that.” he nudged at his partner with his shoulder, a subtle way of insisting that they trade places. “i want to pull out her insides before she kicks the bucket,” he continued, flashing another devilish smile. 

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

Tipping his head to the side a bit, Negan’s eyes dragged over the poor womans face again. He wished he could take her blind fold off. He wanted her to see them. To look them in the eye and beg them to stop. He wanted to watch the life that drove her to keep kicking broken legs and screaming flee from her eyes as they took it from her. Negan believed, truly, that the eyes were the window to the soul or lack their of. His fingers slid over the material  but he didn’t pull it off. As much as he didn’t normally care for rules this was a game put on by the kill club and he sort of cared about the rules just for that reason alone. They had already bent the rules quite a lot.  Instead he redirected his attention to Dante’s hand and the way it grasped the blade that slipped deep into the girls chest. She shirked again and Negan covered her mouth with his hand. He just wanted to watch for a second and while her screams had been entertaining they’d started to get annoying as they were constant. “S-sometimes th-they don’t. Even wh-when you do-do everyth-thing right. B-but wh-when th-they do its k-kinda great.” He admitted before pulling his blade out of her and pushing it back into her collar bone. She screamed against his hand and Negan’s eyes moved back to her face and his hand let go of the knife in her shoulder. His free hand moved to the blood that had formed from Dante’s stab.  Negan pressed his fingers into that wound, twisted them around and held her down as she bucked and kicked up under him. “H-hold st-still.” He mumbled but he wasn’t actually talking to her. She could thrash all she wanted. They had her stuck and Negan wasn’t fucking moving. Not for anything. Not till she was dead. No, he was talking to Dante. Looking over at the other, Negan leaned over and wiped some of her blood on Dante’s jaw line. He smoothed his thumb, bloody, across he others cheek bone and the sat back with a smile on his lips. “R-reds y-your co-colour.” He pointed out before yanking his knife out of her shoulder and nodding for Dante to take his turn.

there was a certain beauty in taking a life, and even now, long after dante had first killed, it still managed to take his breath away. the way she wriggled and begged and pleaded with them to let her go, to end her suffering, was already enough to send heat into his core and they’d hardly started—by the time they had finished, he knew that he would be more than satisfied. he also knew that he would have to come back and appreciate their hard work tomorrow, and the next day, and hell maybe a month from now, if the wildlife was permitting. seeing her squealing in pain was only the beginning, after all—he wanted to see her pretty face rot away, too.

“we’ll just have to try real hard to make it work then, won’t we?” she seemed like the sort of person that would go hysterical from pain, if her incessant shrieking was any indication. a few stabs here and there had already taken her near the breaking point. how would she fair after ten? twenty? fifty? he wondered if she would just straight up die from the stress of it all. “and if it doesn’t end up working out, well...” he trailed off, reaching over to run his fingertips over her jawline; “i’m sure she’ll still be a perfect little plaything.” it would have been impossible for her to be anything less at this point, when the situation had been gift wrapped just for them.

dante glanced up as negan spoke again, just in time for his companion to trace blood over his jawline. it sent a visible shudder through him, the hot blood on his face sending his desires along a slightly different path. “yeah?” he choked out, staring at negan with a face full of hunger. god, he wanted to pin him in the dirt and make him wail—but not in quite the same way she was. don’t be stupid here, he chastised himself. just focus. breaking eye contact, he forced his expression to be less visibly unsettling for his partner, picking his blade back up and making a long slice down her breastbone. the resulting cry told him exactly how much she appreciated that, and as soon as fresh blood welled up in the wound the sick grin was back on his face.

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

As Dante went about breaking her legs, making them useless, Negan started to humm softly to himself. The sound of her bones breaking and her endless screaming, wailing, sobbing- It was all music to his ears. Enjoying himself far to much, Negan’s hands smoothed her shirt out on her shoulders. She twisted under him, flailing the best she could but with both legs broken now, she couldn’t get much traction, or any all. The slightest movements in her feet caused pain all up her legs, and Negan was basically buzzing off of it. He glanced back at her knees. The way the bent and then looked up at Dante. He looked free and it was gorgeous.  “Oh, th-that’s a go-good question.” Negan hummed softly, his hand motiong for Dante to come stand beside him so he could get a better look at what was going on. Flicking his knife out as well, Negan’s fingers tightened around the blade. “H-have you e-ever killed someon-one by-by just st-stabbing them?” He asked before looking back down at her. He’d almost tuned her screaming out now. Much for focused on the work at hand. “It-it takes a lot of-of cuts t-to actually k-kill them if-if you av-avoid the major or-organs.” He pointed out before sliding his knife into her side. He was careful with the placement. Probably hit some of her guts but nothing major. She screamed again with the knew pain and started to beg them to stop. For someone to save her, help her, anything. Negan couldn’t really hear it. “So-sometimes if-if you draw it-it out lo-long enough, th-they st-start to laugh be-because th-they get hysterical. It-its am-amazing.” He pointed to a spot on the left side of her chest. “Th-there next.” He took Dante’s hand in his own and pushed it against her skin before letting go of him and watching his face more than anything. “W-wanna see if w-we can m-make her l-laugh?”

at this point, it would have been impossible to hide the fact that he was enjoying every part of this, and not just because of the expression on his face. the sound of breaking bones, her incessant wailing, all of it was already perfectly scratching that itch and they had barely begun. it was obvious that they were going to have an enjoyable night, even if the young woman they had stolen away might disagree—hell, that was part of the entertainment. a willing victim was hardly what anyone would consider a challenge, and while someone who was truly desperate might give it a try, he couldn’t imagine feeling the same satisfaction as when they resisted.

playing god was all about taking choice away, after all—not just giving into it. “twice, yeah,” he admitted, stepping closer as negan beckoned him forward. the angle was much better near the front, her visible discomfort sending a shiver up his spine. perfection was a word that came to mind. “it’s kinda funny that way, isn’t it? that it takes so long, i mean...” he trailed off, crouching down pat at the side of their victim’s face, ignoring the fresh wail that escaped her. she would quiet down eventually, he knew, when blood loss and the cold finally weakened her. “in all those dumb slasher flicks it always only takes one stab, and they’re done for,” he continued, his eyes fixated on the blood that welled up in the wound negan created. “in real life, it takes ages.”

it was better that way, of course.

half-listening to negan and half-listening to the woman’s desperate pleading, he allowed his hand to be guided over to a spot on her chest. it was too low to hit her heart if he sunk it in just right, and even if he inched up just slightly he wouldn’t do more than nick it. would that kill her? one day he would have to experiment, just to find out... but not tonight. slowly, agonizingly so, dante sunk his blade into her chest, his jaw clenched tightly just to keep himself quiet. there was nothing in the world more perfect than the feeling of a sharp blade cutting through muscle and sinew, nothing in the world more perfect than the sounds of her pain. “let’s do it,” he agreed, turning to face negan with a sinister grin; “i’ve never heard one laugh like that before.”

[dantercsales-blog]

needles-fullof-lies:

Negan was well aware of the rules of the game but he was also fairly sure that Dante, of all people here, wouldn’t mind if he bent them just a little. Its not like she was able to back up now. She was trapped and Negan’s eyes slid past her for a moment when Dante spoke. He nearly shuttered with her when Dante hissed in her ear. His brown eyes watching her in the dark as she sobbed and pushed against him to try and get away from Dante. Of course that only made Negan’s hand in her hair tighten. She wasn’t going aware/ He went on watching Dante taunt her with his words, press into that mess of panic she called a mind and dig around. Negan didn’t have to look at her to know she was falling apart. He could hear it, smell it, and, hell, feel it.  Snapping back into reality at his name, Negan nodded. He shifted a bit, took a step into her and moved one leg back behind her own. He then shoved her over his own leg and she let out a scream as she toppled to the ground. Negan followed her and when they hit the ground he moved to straddle her waist, hands on her shoulders holding her down. “Wh-whats your na-name?” He asked looking down at the girl as she twisted under him.  “Fuck you, you fucking freaks.” She spat out her hair a mess in the mud.  Breathing out, Negan glanced over his shoulder at Dante. “Ne-never heard th-that one be-before. At le-least not as a-a name. Par-parents must r-really hate y-you.” He cooed at her as he shifted. Her arms were tied behind her back so she couldn’t hit him or get up easily. Not with him sitting on her. Twisting back, Negan grabbed her knee with one hand and drove his switch blade into the side of her knee, just under the cap. Shes screamed and he twisted the blade to snap her muscle before pulling his knife out. One leg down. “C-come on sw-sweetie th-that wasn’t so b-bad.” Negan grinned over her screaming. “Ke-keep yelling li-like th-that and y-your gonna sc-scream yourself horse.” He teased before wiping his knife off on his own shirt. 

now that the moment was here, now that nothing stood in his way, he could feel himself start to relax. there was something empowering about being in control of the situation, and as far as he was concerned, nothing in the world could tip things back in her favor. she had lost the minute she had allowed the blindfold to be secured around her eyes, and all the stumbling through the woods wouldn’t have saved her from the reality of what was to come. sure, there had been an agreement to let them go if they reached the edge of the woods, but miles out in the middle of the forest and no sight to navigate by, what were the chances of that happening? one in a million, maybe. hell, it could have been less.

dante’s face split into a sneer as her back hit the ground, excitement lighting his eyes as negan trapped her in place. “damn right. at least she can die knowing she’s going to a better place,” he joked, stepping in closer to where she was pinned. he watched eagerly as his hunting partner turned to drive his knife into her knee, another bark of laughter escaping him as she wailed. “if she thinks that’s bad, she’s in for a rough time,” he said, crouching down to take her ankle in one hand an placing the other on her quickly-swelling knee. she writhed and kicked, but already injured and no match for his own strength, she didn’t manage to wriggle from his grasp. tightening his grip, he bent her leg backwards until he heard a sickening CRACK, afterwards dropping the now-useless limb back onto the dirt. “now for the other one.”

that was all it took for her to start thrashing again, but despite her best efforts, he found it almost easy to break her other leg—and finish off the last bit of hope she had of escaping the situation. no ability to walk, no ability to crawl, no ability to fight... she was as good as dead. “where do you think should we start, negan?” he asked, lifting himself to his feet and pulling his knife from his back pocket. “you know, now that we’ve got her right where we want her...”

[dantercsales-blog]

childliike:

“Doctors know,” He rebutted childishly, “Maybe I should be a doctor.” He imagined himself, stringy hair pulled back into a ponytail, his sickly frame swimming in a doctor’s white coat, leafing through a clipboard and saying smart things. Like dress up. He imagined everyone trusting him and nurses blushing and a really nice car. He imagined sneaking into patients homes at night, cutting them open with a scalpel, taking out their faulty parts and putting them in jars… Fixing and saving… Doing good… Cutting open…

He was only half-listening to Dante, lost in his fantasy. “It doesn’t work like that,” He said, shaking his head and trying hard to focus, “You can’t break them, they have to be broken—” He could feel himself not making sense, but his thoughts were medical gibberish and he couldn’t straighten them out and then just as he was thinking it Dante said it out loud; You wouldn’t understand. Or, well, close enough.

Jinx, he said in his mind.

It was an odd moment. He felt both a sense of connection and indignation. He hated being told he wouldn’t understand things, despite being certain that no one could ever understand him. It was hypocritical, sure, but that didn’t mean it made him any less angry, made him feel any less small. And out of all the things for him to not understand, this? This was all he’d ever known.

“Try me,” He pushed, crossing his arms and telling himself it was just the cold. “I’m not like, dumb, you know. I’m not a kid.” Ha. “I mean— I get stuff. I get this stuff.”

“some of them, sure. but they have to do a lot more than cut people up.” dante wrinkled his nose, trying to picture ever enjoying going into that field. legal mutilation aside, it didn’t exactly seem like a dream profession. sickness was disgusting, and most of the time the solution didn’t involve picking up a scalpel and pulling things apart. “i guess you could be, if you’re into that.” of course, he personally thought it was more rewarding to be a murderer than to bother with the complications of the medical field. saving people just didn’t have the same appeal as ruining them, even if there were some nice cutting tools involved.

dante stole another glance at JD, shrugging a shoulder. “suit yourself. maybe when you cut one open you’ll find something broken enough for you.” it did make sense, in a weird sort of way—fitting, given his opinion on the man—but only in logistics. he seemed to want something less artificial than some last-minute injury, but why that would make someone less appealing was lost on him. that didn’t bother him, not really—dante knew they all killed for different reasons.

doubt glittered in his eyes, and he didn’t bother to hide it from his expression even when he physically turned to face john. “who are you trying to convince, casper? me, or yourself?” it wasn’t a malicious question on his part (hell, he didn’t expect an answer), but part of him did hope it would send him in another direction. bristling slightly, he continued, “look, we all kill for different reasons, right? you like imperfections, and i like...” fuck, he couldn’t even finish his sentence, not even to someone he knew was probably too socially weird to care. “i kill people i wanna fuck, okay?” defensive, much? god, he wanted a cigarette. 

[dantercsales-blog]

shatteredriley:

“Some things outweigh the fear. I mean, I assume that’s true for all of us.”

“assuming you’re someone who’s afraid, i guess. what is it for you?”

[dantercsales-blog]

memphisgreene:

Memphis was usually picky about the people he killed. The desire was there with just about everyone he came into contact with, but to actually go through with it required a certain motivation on his part. He didn’t see it as someone being worthy, but as someone he could learn something from. Like their insides would somehow look different than anyone else’s. In this case, he found the guy amusing, the way he stumbled around, thrashing about like a baby animal. Nothing kept him down though, his desperation kept him moving, even covered in mud and tripping all over himself. “Aren’t you?” Memphis asked, watching as the victim made his way in their direction, just as Memphis had hoped. 

He gave one last glance to Dante before he stepped out of the brush. The victim didn’t notice and Memphis was sure he couldn’t hear much over the sound of his out pulse banging in his ears. Panic was the biggest inconvenience. So, unwittingly, the boy walked right into Memphis, and his knife. The wound where the blade went in at his side wasn’t deep, it was just enough to shock him and he stumbled backwards, unsure of what to do with his eyes covered and his hands being bound, but he still thrashed from side to side, trying to strike out at his assailant, maybe? “Who are you?” He yelled out, voice cracking like a child’s. “What are you doing?” Memphis said nothing, didn’t even move from where he was standing as he watched.

it was hard to focus on anything other than the victim staggering blindly in their direction, each step he took taking him closer and closer to where dante (and memphis) crouched. it would have been almost too easy to swoop in and pin him to a nearby tree, or rock, or hell even the dirt looked good enough at this point—he looked too tired to put up much of a fight. even if adrenaline helped, a few choice pokes with his knife would weaken him too much for it to make much of a difference. but in order for any of that to matter, the poor fool had to stumble his way over to them—those were the rules, after all, even if it was very tempting to break them.

“yeah,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough to be heard through the downpour (and of course, the loud cursing of their dissatisfied target). with that, he watched as memphis crept out of the underbrush, gripping his own knife more tightly in his hand. it was amusing to watch as the pitiful bastard walked right into memphis’ knife, how he immediately began to thrash about like a fish out of water. did he think he would hit anything? maybe panic made him stupid. silently, dante pulled himself from the brush and out into the small clearing, waiting until their victim had stopped swinging and pressed a hand to the shallow wound in his abdomen.

he wanted to make a nice, ragged cut along his belly. he wanted to stick the edge of his knife into his spine and watch as he lost the ability to move. he wanted to carve into his face and laugh as he tried not to choke on his own blood... but that would come later. careful to keep his footsteps quiet, he slipped around the victim’s unguarded side and jabbed at him with his knife, quickly ducking as an arm swung around to strike at him.