#murdersinthemaking

[the-graves-family]

8. A violent starter

@murdersinthemaking

"Again."

Aaron is still... indisposed. This is inconvenient and upsetting, and Ace has been working Murdock to the bone. Anything the man does is not good enough. Aaron had done it better.

Case in point, Murdock is failing to withstand the simplest of shocks, always falling to the floor and whining like a child. Aaron had been taking shocks like this since he'd been twelve years old, and even as a child he'd been less annoying than Murdock.

"Get up. Again." Ace needs to calibrate the spiders in the serial killer's joints, and he can't do that if the man keeps giving up like a pathetic whelp.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Long lounging days in the sun, selling off the occasional painting and channeling the murderous urges into more productive means. Murdock slowly stalks down the hall, footsteps heavy against the hardwood. The idea had been passed around before between them, of one of them being surprised by the other and dragging them into bed. He couldn’t deny Oliver his fantasies, ones that promised him an even greater escape.

Wrapping his arm around his waist, he quickly pulls Oliver away from the kitchen counter and starts carrying him to bed. Thrown over his shoulder, hands reaching down his pants already. “God…pretty boy, I’ve gotta get you.” Murdock growls, smacking his ass and finally dropping him on the bed.

@murdersinthemaking

For the first time in what's felt like a century, everything feels normal. With no demons to conquer and no victims to kill, Oliver doesn't believe he's ever felt more domestic. He spends most of his days either spending time with his love or happily cleaning around the house, which is just what he was doing upon Murdock's entry into the kitchen. Looking up from the floor with the broom in his hand, he smiles the moment he sees him, halting his movements.

"There you are, darling. How did your–" Oliver's sentence is cut off the moment he's hoisted up and over Murdock's shoulder with a yelp, the broom smacking the floor when he has to let go and holding onto the clothing beneath his hands as if that'll stop himself from being dropped, watching the world shift. "Murdock–!"

Oh.

Well... suddenly his shock is being replaced with the feeling of heat beneath his own sweater, shivering as he feels hands touch him eagerly along with the sound of Murdock's voice. He'd never get tired of it, of him. As he feels the slap come down and forces his mouth closed to suppress the sound it pulls from him, he stares up at his love expectantly as he's dropped onto the bed, warm skin sending a barely red flush to his face.

"I'm... how do you– need me?"

[perfectly-intoxicated]

🍺

@murdersinthemaking

Hannah was doing better. She didn’t think about him that often anymore. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have her moments.

She’s been encouraging Murdock to sell some of his paintings, the ones he showed her one night when they were both too preoccupied and lost in their individual emotional states to care about what being this vulnerable meant for them. So when she wakes up to a note telling her he’ll be back soon, she didn’t think much of it, just assumed he was off getting entangled in the chores of an artist. Okay, she would be fine. She could survive an hour or two on her own.

But then she noticed they didn’t have orange juice, and of course, she had to go out to buy some. Except she didn’t end up at the grocery store, she ended up at an all too familiar bar. At least one of the drinks she ordered had orange juice in it, so… no harm done, right?

No harm done, if she had just gotten one drink and stayed at the same bar. Back before her life turned into some dark comedy, she liked going on little journeys, hopping from one bar to the next. It gave her something to do, something else to focus on instead of the inevitable reality that awaited her beyond some double doors. And of course, she liked getting drunk. Really drunk.

And in her inebriated mind, she could start to realize that she missed Murdock. What a bummer, having a fun time with yourself.

Fun. A fun time. This is fun. Fun fun fun.

Slouched over a bar with her phone to her ear, she listens to the phone ring, ring, ring. Why do they call it ringing? It doesn’t sound like a ring to her. Sounds like something else she can’t quite describe. A word she’ll find later.

“Heyyy.” She extends her greeting with a grin, clearing her throat and spinning the straw around in her cocktail. “What ‘s— what ‘s up? D’you sell anything? That’s great, that’s, that’s cool. I got a head start on this celebratin’ thing. The bar… the bar guy gave me a free drink a while ‘go. At the other place. You’d like it, ‘s— ‘s all artistic and shit ‘n there. They had this paintin’ wi’ a bunch of… squiggles ‘n lines ‘n… y’know. But yours are cooler. Y’should sell to them. I could call ‘em. Anythin’ for youuu.”

[the-graves-family]

[ intrude ] sender walks in on receiver treating their wounds (reverse)

🌸

@murdersinthemaking

"Looking a little worse for the wear, aren't you, pet?"

Strictly speaking, Adrian isn't really supposed to smoke inside their buildings. But unless Victor Graves himself descends upon him to chew him out, there isn't much anyone can do about it. Stalking forward with the gait of someone who knows nothing will ever be able to hurt him, the eldest of the Graves' sons crosses the room to get a good look at their resident pathetic mess of an employee.

"Tell me, then, how did you manage to get your ass beat into the ground this time, hm?"

[the-graves-family]

🎲 @murdersinthemaking

Just because Ace does not partake in the darker aspects of the family business, doesn't mean people don't know who he is. The force of bodyguards that accompany him everywhere surely helps with making offenders reconsider their stance in his presence.

He is a Graves, after all.

Stepping into the alley, hands folded in front of him, he gazes silently at the people harassing his boyfriend for a few moments, before tilting his head to the side. "You have five minutes."

A warning. A promise. A threat. They either leave, or he makes them. Not him, of course, never him. He does not have a single drop of blood on his hands. But the murderous bodyguards behind him, and the army of agents working for his father, have no such problems.

[the-graves-family]

He’s always angry. Murdock finds himself in alleyways most nights, trying to start some kind of fight and feel it break his body. Just to make himself more upset, make everything more agonizingly enjoyable. Last week, he finally killed someone. Smashing their skull into a garbage can and stealing twenty dollars out of their wallet. It was the happiest he’d ever been. Soon, he was looking up what more murderers and killers did to get their kicks. Kidnapping? He could do that.

For two weeks, he’s watched the house. One almost never leaves the building except twice a week. Only to the local grocery store before holing up back inside. No one visits to ever see him.

Murdock waits in the parking lot, watching his target walk over to grocery store doors. It’s time. “Hey! Hey you! Can you come over? My cars broken down, can you give me a hand?”

@murdersinthemaking

Ace does not like leaving the house. There are people outside and that's just not a good time for anyone involved. But he also feels obligated to help his moms, so he goes shopping for them twice a week. He takes their list and he goes to the store.

Today is no different. He spent all morning working on his projects in the garage and left around midday for the store, after getting dressed in something a little less revealing. Less people at this hour. He's about to go in when a voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks over at the stranger.

It's a man. He's not a fan of that. Ace looks at him warily for a moment, eyeing him up and down, before he hears what the stranger is saying. A car. He can help with that. It would probably even be fun for him.

Ace is also not very good at remembering that other people can lie.

He approaches the man slowly, tilting his head to the side. "I can help," he mumbles quietly. "What's wrong with it?"

[perfectly-intoxicated]

“Got you some dinner, do you wanna get out of bed to eat it?” They’ve learnt each other’s routines well, when it starts to claw through their fragile defences. When Murdock starts getting too antsy to leave the house and Hannah starts to bury herself in the bed. When neither of them can take off their gloves.

Sliding onto the bed, he dangles the slightly greasy bag above her head before pulling it into his lap. “Can’t eat it in here, it’ll ruin the bedding. I got it delivered here, didn’t know they’d go out this far and all. Still warm too.”

Please, he thinks, gripping the paper bag tightly, I can’t do this without you. Leaning back, he tried to unearth Hannah in the copious amount of blankets and throws covering the bed. It’s not really ‘their’ bed; they’re not dating but they’re not friends. It’s probably a word he couldn’t enunciate without ten minutes practice. “There’s some new reality tv show, cruise liner staff. Looks pretty trashy, do you want to watch it with me?”

@murdersinthemaking

The mornings she gets like this, she can feel it before she even opens her eyes. When something in her mind changes, when there are weights over her eyes, when her blood crystallizes into quicksand and sinks her into the mattress. Her descent is slow because there’s no struggle. With no will to push herself out or crawl to the surface, she lets it happen. She drowns in the self-pity of her own resentment.

That’s how it usually is, at least. But now there’s Murdock.

Murdock who won’t leave her side.

His words sound muffled, like cotton stuffed in her ears. She usually keeps such care of her appearance — meticulously spending hours on split ends, slapping on skincare until she shines, working out until she shakes — but if she’s not at her highest right now then she doesn’t seem to notice or care. Hair falls over her face, dry lips that haven’t felt a sip of water in too long, and her body is as still as a statue. When she looks at the wall, it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

bad men i hurt him it’s bullshit time to go he’ll go away eventually i am not anya.

i am not anya. iam—

She wasn’t listening when he talked, but her body moves. Slowly, like it takes everything in her to make the effort, her head moves forward to rest against Murdock’s thigh when he slides onto the bed. Comfort. She wants comfort. She wants it to stop.

She shifts and hides her face. Her mind is exhausting. She’s exhausted. She hopes she can close her eyes and sleep for a very long time.

[the-graves-family]

Great. Fucking fantastic. Murdocks car has broken down four miles off from his house. After a rather risky drop off from the body, he’d driven from the opposite side of town and towards the far side of the woods. Walking into the woods, he starts trying to find his way through the thickets and over unfamiliar rocks. Normally, he can spot Carmilla off before the house, the cherry red exterior a signal through the muddle of greens and browns. Instead, he comes across a horrific sight. Another house. Nicer than his too. Probably some rich fuckers holiday house to get out of the way.

Knocking on the door, he starts checking both of his phones for a usable signal. Only a confirmation text from a half hour before that the other half of his payment will be wired through. “Excuse me? Can you give me a hand please? Cars bloody broken down.” If it all goes to shit, at least he’d have one new victim.

@murdersinthemaking

Ace is alone. He'd been feeling lenient, and had allowed Aaron to find a part-time job. Of course, he knows where his brother is at all times, with the tracker on him, and it's a privilege that will be revoked the next time he slips up. Which of course Aaron will do eventually. Not much hope for him in that department.

He'd seen the intruder the moment he had entered his land. He'd watched, and waited, and now the man was at his door. A broken down car? It would almost intrigue him, if he didn't have better projects already.

The door to the house opens, seemingly on his own, to reveal a clean interior, but no one inside. Murdock can choose to step inside, or turn away, but both options will still lead to the same outcome. Spider will ensnare him with its wires, and it will drag him down to the basement where Ace is waiting.