#also she purrs like a chainsaw the second you pick her up and she makes biscuits and purrs whenever we all watch a movie together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supremeinlilac · 3 years

Text

Into the light (I'll hold you)

Pairing: Coven!Cordelia Goode x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Slow dancing in the greenhouse.

Word Count: 2557

Warnings: Self doubt, angst.

A/n: Canon divergent, H*nk doesn't exist and Delia's acid attack never happened, although she has still had the Sight previously. Was saving this fic but fuck it, I'm posting it now😌

Halloween.

The night of eerie suspense and the lingering sense of being watched. You enjoyed the days festivities when you were younger, skipping excitedly door to door under a white sheet with your friends.

This Halloween would be your second at Miss Robichaux’s, the first you’d all gone out to a party and got a little too drunk, returning to an irritated Ms Goode. It had been the first time you’d kissed her, and she’d rejected you because of the state you’d been in.

Still, it was the night that had started the path of your relationship with the headmistress.

You loved Halloween.

This year, Fiona Goode, reigning Supreme, returned to the academy. You were instantly weary of her, due to the fact Delia never liked to bring her mother up in conversation of her past. When you’d overheard her telling your girlfriend that she was wasted potential in the school, a prickle of icy anger called the hair at the nape of your neck to stand rigid.

You and the rest of the witches had decided to stay in, watch films and play games. It wasn’t often that everyone could get together to celebrate an evening where witches were celebrated, so they wanted to make the most of the friendly atmosphere that surrounded them. It never lasted long in the coven.

Fiona went out to a bar, her witches hat crooked atop her head and you found yourself glaring at her as she left. The woman alit a flame inside you, one that easily spread and engulfed your powers, fire licking hotly at the tips of your fingers and threatened to overpower you.

Cordelia had stayed behind with you, much to her mother protest, to have a quiet night while the rest of the hubbub would be concentrated in the living room. You were both wrong to think that there’d be no disturbances.

The shattering of glass fractured the silence in your shared room with Cordelia. She’d been braiding your hair, an intimacy that the pair of you rarely found time to do together. She hummed the song you were sung as a child, a habit that she’d picked up in your time at the coven, the action now second nature. It no longer only served to soothe you, but now it brought her comfort too.

Her fingers stilled in your hair, head snapping to the door. You heard a couple of loud thuds and shouts, and then her hand was clutching yours protectively.

“Hey Cordelia?” You heard Queenie shout up the stairs, “you best look outside.”

She was off the bed like it had burned her, drawing the curtains back to show the slow advance of the people outside. You heard her shaky inhale, before she fisted her hands in her trousers and turned to you.

“It’s just the locals. Playing tricks on us, you know how Madison likes to irritate them the rest of the year. Lord knows we’re not the best neighbours,” her face looked serious but the waver in her voice betrayed her. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than you.

It had been a blur after that, shouting and running, and Cordelia slipped out of your grasp. You’d been fighting, had a kitchen knife pressed into your hand by, Zoe, maybe? No. It had been one of the other girls.

They wouldn’t die, those zombies, if that’s even what they were. You’d slashed at a part of them that they shouldn’t have been able to get back up from. Yet it did, limbs flailing and reaching spindly towards you.

Knocked to the ground, you think you must have passed out. But not before you’d seen Cordelia trying to defend the house, eyes furious and scared and dark.

You remembered the purr of the chainsaw, the splatter of blood. The silence that hung after.

The next day you found Cordelia sat at her usual bench in the greenhouse, frows furrowed in concentration as she mixed ingredients with the gentle crack of test tubes and vials. You could see the anguish behind hooded eyes, it was clear that she’d been restless last night, down here long past when everyone else slept.

You had seen her from your window as you’d been drawing the curtains the night before, standing over the pile of haphazardly thrown bodies of the zombies. You weren’t sure how long she’d spent there, not wanting to disturb her until now.

She’d also been absent at both breakfast and dinner, with the excuse of paperwork, but you could see through the thinly veiled lie. You brought her a sandwich and a yogurt, setting them down on a bench before pulling a chair up beside her to watch her work.

Cordelia could mix potions and restore plants without thinking, her craft a lovingly perfected dance in which he moved around the greenhouse with practised ease, plucking vials off the shelves and balancing glassware in steady hands.

Her hands shook. Slightly, almost unnoticeable was the small tremor but it indicated her unease. There was blood still crusted under her fingernails.

You softly coaxed her to put the glass down with fingers around her wrists, guiding her to look at you before lazily lacing your fingers together. She whispered a greeting with a small smile, almost as if she hadn’t registered your presence until you’d touched her.

“I feel like I failed everyone. My girls.” Her voice cracked languidly, eyes falling to where your hands joined on her lap, her nails scraping at your skin nervously. “How can I be headmistress when I cannot protect you all?”

“It’s not your job to do it all alone.” You reminded her gently, thumb brushing over whitened knuckles, following the dip and contour of her skin. “Cordelia.”

A single droplet of shimmering water does not sink a ship. A single cloud cannot shield the sun. A single parent could spend years doubting their worth, unaware that it takes a village to raise a child.

No single person can bear the weight of the world’s troubles without crumbling.

Not even Cordelia, whom you thought could harness the sun if she willed it, could do everything herself. It simply was an unrealistic expectation that her mother had used to weigh her down with.

“Look at me, baby. You are not alone, okay?”

When her head lifted slowly, the light caught the water in her eyelashes, diamond tears shimmering and rolling down the curve of reddened cheeks. You were quick to coo at her, hand coming to cradle her face so you could lean to kiss them away, salt on your tongue.

She shook her head, refusing to look at you and you felt hopeless, like a bystander on the site of an accident. As much as you tried to couldn’t get close enough to her to help, to comfort her as she needed. Running in a dream, tripping over a mere breath and wading through syrup as you tried to escape.

“I’m a failure.”

You found yourself shaking your head, the phantom of a protest falling from your lips, how could Cordelia think that.

“Everything that Fiona says is true.” She continued, head falling into her arms on the desk. Your hand rested on her back, a gentle reminder of the comfort you could give her if only she asked for it. If only she would accept it when you would give it to her anyway.

“I don’t belong here.” Whispered from under her hair which hid her.

Cordelia didn’t realise her own worth, and you wondered if anyone ever truly does.

Does the night sky know its beauty? Or does it envy the blue of the day? Does it wait for the sun to kiss its head and grant it eternity. The night sky is rich with light, if it would only look deep enough within itself to find it. Burning stars and planets reflecting the sun, a kaleidoscope of colour on an ebony canvas.

Cordelia would often look at pictures of her absent mother when she believed to be alone. She was secretly envious of Fiona’s effortless graceful command and hold that she had over the whole coven. She believed her own magical abilities to be inferior to that of the Supreme’s, but it was an unfair comparison, for a Supreme would always persist.

She thought that it meant hers weren’t strong enough, scared for eventualities like the previous night, that she would fail at the role of protector. But she hadn’t failed, she’d fought just like you and Zoe, and it was just the luck of the draw that Zoe’s fear would trigger her Power Negation.

But Cordelia held such raw natural, burning potential that you’d habitually find yourself staring as she practised spells. Eyes following the deft flow of her fingers as she’d manipulate movement. She’d had the second sight within her, so at least on a subconscious level she must know her power.

“You belong here. And look around you, look at this place. Yourgreenhouse.”

“You made it into what it’s become. It’s you.” You spoke, letting yourself spin to appreciate all the work she’d put into this place, into herself.

Cordelia lifted her head, hair falling from her eyes and crowning her face as she followed your gaze to the hanging planters, the glass vials. To the floor that she’d swept only days ago, leaves starting to litter the stone again.

She watched you run fingertips over the exposed brick on the wall, your attention solely on her work around you. She could see the adoration in the iris’ of your eyes, alight with your honesty. You gaze returning, always, to her as you walked to her.

Tentatively, you reached out for her. Was she yet ready to accept your help, your love as you wanted to give it to her?

Still unsure, Cordelia shied away from your comforting touch, head returning to her hands.

“You don’t have to live behind Fiona’s words anymore.” You whispered into her temple, as if straight into her mind.

Sometimes it is easier to live in the shadows than to confront those who cast them.

She’d spent her whole life cowering in Fiona’s shadow, growth and development stunted from the lack of light. Self-belief fractured into a gaping crack.

She’d been trapped, dark and alone with a mother figure who didn’t love her in a way she understood how to be loved. They both loved each other then, and ove each other now, but sometimes mere love isn’t enough. It isn’t consistent enough to be safe. You can love someone and still hurt them.

You had spent time working on her confidence, creeping back into the light and into herself again. Breaking down the thoughts that had grown to immobile threatening walls that only served to block the light more.

All it had taken was one night of Fiona being back for all that progress to retreat back to where they’d been hidden. Cordelia had urged you then to back away, to leave her and grow by yourself, that she was only holding you back.

But you gritted your teeth and grinned in the face of the devil. You weren’t scared of the dark. And you’d be damned if you were leaving it without your girlfriend. Even if you had to start right back at the beginning, you’d help her to heal.

“You could be the next Supreme.” You urged, pulling her head from where it rested on the table, forcing her to look in your eyes and see your honesty.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true.” She begged, vision hazed by tears.

“But it is true, Delia. You’re so powerful.” You pressed, eyes conveying your severity like your voice couldn’t. Willing her to believe.

You reached to brush the tears that clung to her eyelashes before they fell and stained her face. A lingering kiss to her lips, the feeling of her lower lip wobbling between your own. In that moment, you could feel her fragility.

You didn’t want to push further, knowing that she may never truly believe in her full potential like you did. Instead, you pushed yourself to feet and bounced in front of her. She looked up in confusion, eyes still full with tears that caught the light, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them away again. They didn’t deserve to dampen her skin.

“Dance with me?” You asked, standing and offering a hand the way you’d so often seen in movies.

A shy smile formed on the headmistress’ lips, cheeks pink and the tips of her ears flushed as she allowed herself to be pulled from her seat. Into the shine of the moonlight, which shone beams of liquid silver through the glass onto the hard stone and the soft of Cordelia.

Your arms secured themselves around her waist while hers stroked the back of your neck. Moments like this made you wonder if perhaps the cliché’s people told you about love had been true. Maybe this could be forever. It always felt like forever when you were in her arms.

You swayed to phantom music, slow and deliberate, soft touches and kisses on bare shoulders. You felt like even a whisper would shatter the perfect peace you’d enveloped you both in, sending ripples of doubt over the sheer water and to Cordelia again.

The moon felt like perfect company in that moment, like a third person, watching and waiting. A witness to the silent change.

Cordelia pressed her forehead to yours, her fingers splayed through the hair at the back of your head, holding you close. You could see the depth of her eyes, searching for the lie in yours that wasn’t there to find. You truly believed that she was the next Supreme, she had to be.

“Say something.” She breathed, hand on your waist dancing under the hem of your top, cold fingers on warm skin.

“Like what?” You asked, pulling back momentarily so you could smile at her. The hand that was behind your head tucked hair behind your ear and brought your hand from her shoulder so she could press lips to your knuckles. The ridge of bone under the soft of her skin and then she was hugging you again.

“Anything, I just want to hear your voice.”

So you told her about yourself. Stories she’d never heard and memories you’d thought you’d forgotten. Whispers of your past shared with your future.

She nuzzled her chin into the crook of your neck and listened, breathing deep the smell of your perfume that clung, lingering to the collar of your clothes.

A laugh.

Rippling up your throat at reminiscing a memory, vibration muffled against her ear at your jaw, and Cordelia swore that she could feelyour emotions. Truly feel you, and she realised that you couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t will yourself to say something untrue just to still the aching beat of her heart within her chest.

You couldn’t make yourself want to mend her. You didn’t want that. You wanted to help her heal. Heal from her past that held less joy and laughter than yours did.

You wanted to help her create memories of her own, just like this.

Slow dancing in the greenhouse.

Dancing in the dark under the glow of the patient moon.

taglist: @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @okpaulson @pluied-ete @magnifique-monstre @extraordinarilycelestrial @mssallymckenna @magnificent-paulsonn @shineestark @commanderspeach @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @darling-dontforgetme @amethyst-bitch @its-soph-xx @germansarechill @bluesxrgnt @d14n4ol @ninaahs @sarahp-stan @natasha-danvers @imgayandmymomdoesntknow @lovelypeasantjellyfish @rainbow-hedgehog @paulawand @saucy-sapphic @lilypadscoven @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @venablemayfairgoode @serawalkerwrites @sapphicsarahpaulson @delias-bitch-craft ,, if you want to be added sent me an ask or reply to this post <3

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs fic

235 notes · View notes

murdersexual · 3 years

Note

So... When are you going to post that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

Mane bet... 😏 But I might delete it later! Here’s part one!

🚨WARNING!🚨

Rated MA for Mature Audiences only. NSFW.

Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling, Gun Violence.

NOT COMPLETELY PROOFREAD.

May have a few out of character instances for I wrote this around 3am, so please excuse that.

✨Ship/Pairing✨:

LeoPika (Leorio x Kurapika)

March 3rd, XXXX, En route to World Resorts Casino, around 9:47pm:

The weather in Yorknew hadn’t exactly started to reflect that it’s close to Springtime yet. It’s still cold and snowy but that wasn’t going to stop the event that’s being hosted by some of the biggest names in Underground Crime.

We’re talking about a night full of sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling and music.

It’s also the night of Leorio’s 21st birthday and he’s in town, steaming hot for he’s yet to receive a ‘happy birthday’ call from a certain Mafia Leader with the most gorgeous of light blonde hair. However, that’s not all... In general, Leorio is ultimately tired of trying so hard to be the glue to what’s considered an already unfixable relationship. The point of his visit this time is to give Kurapika a piece of damn mind for what may be the final time.

What a way to spend his birthday, right?

The hot blooded koi fish found himself strolling down the cold streets of Yorknew by his lonesome. His enticing hazel gaze is relative to the weather... Cold and piercing. He wore the meanest of faces with his lips decorated in a sheer pout. Then his face and ears are red from the whipping of the snow and frosty winds. The thoughts that went around his sophisticated skull only ruses him further. With each step he took, the snow crunched beneath his expensive waterproof combat boots. The sound gave him a slight sense of calm—one that managed to steal attention momentarily.

“I forgot the last time I’ve even enjoyed the Winter...”

The words came rolling off his tongue. His eyes slightly softened as he now comes to a brief halt, a soft sigh exhales from the tall doctor-to-be. He finds the dark sky that slowly drops the small white flakes. Being the jovial spirit he knows he could be, he sticks his tongue out and catches a few of them. His handsome features are now graced with a soft smile only to see the lights of his destination illuminate the skyline. With a low growl, he’s reminded of his current goal.

“Bet even YOU won’t see me coming...”

His icy glare returns and the tone of his voice has lost all signs of benevolence. His words came out way darker than they should’ve.

But can you blame him though?

Continuing his traverse through the snowy lands of the busy city, he adjusts his earmuffs while now stuffing his gloved hands back into his long black winter coat. The brunette’s hair is messy and filled with snowflakes, such a look makes him appear rather gentle despite his mood. His trademark circular shades are gently shaded from the current weather but that doesn’t stop him from seeing now does it?

‘When I get there, I promise this time I’m gonna knock his fucking lights out.’

The thought got his adrenaline flowing. Now he yearns to cause physical damage. The question is... will it actually happen? This IS Kurapika here. He’s not gonna sit there and take that shit, UNLESS... he ACTUALLY accepts such a punishment.

Leorio knows how aggressive he can be but he is more angry than sad. He won’t ever come to say it...

But the idea of not being called on his birthday genuinely hurt him.

It felt like a slap in the face, especially for everything he’s done. He’d never miss any birthdays or special occasions and it’s to the point where he feels like it’s only him who thinks that way.

‘I give too fucking much to not get much—better yet, NOTHING in return!’

Being a person with a heart the size of the world this is the curse: to always be dealt a hand that’s never going to win. Knowing him? He wants to break that curse and by default there’s no better way to do it than to throw hands. His actions always spoke louder anyways.

Crossing a few streets and nearly fighting one of the people who almost hit him, he finally makes it to his destination—World Resorts Casino. Entering through the slide open glass doors, the bright slots, signs that point to everything and even the neon-like decor nearly blinded him. The smell of expensive imported cigars, cigarettes, various alcohol and a multitude of different colognes and perfumes filled the air. His nose burned from the mixture of scents all around. A low grunt emits as he now removes his gloves and earmuffs. Stuffing both in his pocket, he proceeds to walk ahead while undoing his silver buckle, his finely seamed gold buttons and his golden zipper. It revealed the finest of outfits!

He’s wearing a sleek black slim fit blazer that fits rather nicely around his muscular arms, a jet black satin button up that’s halfway unbuttoned at the top and neatly tucked in his matching sleek slacks that’s accented with a gold buckle Gucci belt. Tapping his feet to rid of the snow from the bottom, he walks on ahead only to meet one of the Casino Bunnies.

“Welcome to the World Resorts Casino, my fine gentleman! If you’re looking for the event labelled ‘How To Play Russian Roulette With a Criminal Mastermind’, it’s from the second floor on up! Here’s a complimentary welcome drink! May you enjoy your time here~!”

Giving a quick bow, the busty beauty now switches away, her semi-exposed cheeks had a little bit of a wiggle to them much like her makeshift bunny tail. With a smirk as he watches her, he stirs his drink and takes a sip, now charmed by how well it’s mixed.

“Not bad!”

Heading to the stairs that’s decorated in the cutest of roulette wheel numbers, he heads up, his ears are open and listening to the music that’s being played. He hums while trying to figure out what floor Kurapika may be on...

Speaking of him?

Kurapika’s right hand reaches for the roulette wheel, the midnight blue and black ombré nail polish that was still on his hands matched with the blue and purple ambience that is on the 8th floor. In his left, he held a half empty shot glass, now proceeding to spin the wheel. His right leg is crossed over his left, his foot gently swung to the beat, a soft smirk now decorating his face for he’s caught up hosting the Roulette Table.

“What’s your bets?”

He asked the two players, a woman in a black short evening dress that seemed one size too small, her breasts looked as if they were about to pop out of it and her bodacious hips, butt and thighs made the dress rise to the point her black g-string nearly showed. But it’s a good thing she has her legs crossed right?

“I’ll take all even on red, my kind sire~”

Her voice cooed, almost in a flirtatious tone towards him. To be honest, she’s been debating on attempting to charm him since his grand appearance earlier in the night. He knew that just from her gestures and body language alone. Those light grey orbs swished over to the woman beside her, she held herself up, a cigarette now being doused out in an ashtray, she wears a smile on her ruby red lips as she now casually blows smoke into the air.

“Mmm, can luck be a lady tonight~? I think I’ll take all even on black, hun~”

Sipping the little bit of cognac that’s left in his shot glass, he sets it down and looks to the wheel while mentally trying to calculate who’s going to win this round.

“How much?”

The busty lady was quick to answer...

“I’ll put 100 genie on my red~”

The ruby red lipstick lady smirked at her.

“Hmph, I’m a bit of a daredevil, so I’ll do 700 on my black~”

With that being said, he spins the wheel and actually narrows his choice down to who’s going to win.

‘Ruby, otherwise she wouldn’t have bet so much. She’s confident that all black on even will be victorious. And she’s not wrong... Tara’s bet was a safe one so there’s a lack of confidence in her choice. I know I’m the reason why she’s picked red... I have my earring to blame.’

“And the winner is...”

His eyes carefully watched the wheel as it began to slow up. The tiny little ball clicked and clanged until it fell onto...

Black, 26.

“Ruby.”

‘Just as I thought.’

Indeed, he knew it and with a gasp of disbelief, Tara pouts before reaching in between her breasts and pulling out a total of 800 genie. She hands it over to Ruby who takes it and waves it like a fan over her.

“Mmm, I can smell that vanilla perfume with a hint of boob sweat~ You were nervous weren’t you, doll face~?”

Tara gives an eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Hmph! What’s it to ya? Ya won already!”

She squeaks angrily. Getting up from her chair, Ruby wanders over and stands behind her before leaning down and wrapping her arms around her, she plants a kiss on her cheek before using her alcohol tinged tongue to sensually lick the shell of her ear before nipping at it and tugging on it. She purrs playfully.

“Better behave yourself, kitten~”

A soft squeak emits from Tara who huffs softly. She hates how she plays at one of her many weaknesses.

“Oh fine! But you’re on the couch tonight!”

“As long as my face is between your legs, I’m fine with that.”

The exchange between the two didn’t really surprise the blonde. As a Mafia Leader, he’s come to accept the shit he’s gonna see on a pretty regular basis. Taking his ice cubes and holding them into his cheeks he sets up for the next spin only to receive a call.

“Ugh...”

He knew whose voice it was off the back. He blinks his eyes closed as he slides the answer icon to the right and places it to his ear.

“What...?”

On the other line, that soft voice of Melody’s muttered...

“You have a visitor on his way to you... He seems very pissed...”

But who exactly is SHE referring to?

‘Oh don’t tell me...’

“Who…?”

He was enticed to ask anyways.

“I think it’s Leorio! I-I’m not sure, the only heartbeat I recognise that’s this fast and full of anger is yours though... It doesn’t seem like him at all...”

His eyes found the sky as he worded ‘my dear family, I do apologise, but fuck me gently with a fucking chainsaw, please, speed on low and blades on extra sharp.’ He made Tara and Ruby giggle for they read his lips perfectly. With a gentle sigh, he asks...

“Okay... so is it him or not…? I’m in the middle of hosting the roulette table...”

Her answer would’ve been immediate for she could hear the irritation starting to ruse. But before she could answer, she was spotted by the angry Leorio. His eyes glinted as he knew she was snitching.

“U-Uh!”

“MELODY!! TELL THAT FUCKER I SAID... BE READY TO FUCKING FIGHT!!”

Now leaning to his left hand to pinch his nose bridge a dreaded sigh left Kurapika.

“...Great.”

👀👀👀

I see that you’ve made it this far... This is ONLY part one. I currently have three full parts. So if you’d like to see the rest? Let me know! (EWW I CANNOT WRITE WTF! 🥲) I do apologise if this is all over the place but I knew that I’d get asked to post this some time around!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh 2011 #oneshot #writing #leorio #leorio paladiknight #Kurapika #ask #ask response #anime #hxh imagines #one shot #fanfic #part one #thanks for the ask!#casino

13 notes · View notes

flylittlerobin-dbd · 5 years

Note

So robin, what are your thoughts on the killers?

“…again I hope no one can see these… I-it’s safe to say they’re all scary…”

“The Trapper is actually one of the scariest killers… Nevermind his appearance, he’s really good at finding the most unsuspecting places to put his traps, but they always find their mark. He tends to go after Jake the most… Aside from that, Evan is surprisingly well-mannered.”

“The Wraith…doesn’t belong here… See…Philip can jumpscare better than most being able to turn invisible, but the way he was brought here… He didn’t deserve this. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killer, no matter how often he says he is. He’s kinda like a cat, though, and he squints his eyes when he’s happy. He’s one of the killers most likely to let you go in a trial, but that doesn’t erase that he’s frightening.”

“Max- I don’t like to call him The Hillbilly- is another one that shouldn’t be here. He’s a sweet guy, but that chainsaw sprint is one of the scariest things a killer can do. One second you’re alone, next you hear a chainsaw, and then you’re down and hooked before you can determine if it’s Max or Bubba…”

“The Nurse is a sweet woman. Her blinking power is very cool, but it really does take a lot out of her. Despite this, she’s incredibly precise. Sally likes to sing too! And she tends to pick flowers she sees, however few she sees.”

“The Shape… *shiver* I can understand why Laurie is afraid of him. She knows the most about him, but… Michael is a brick wall, both emotionally and physically, yet he’s the most silent out of all the killers. You won’t even know he’s there until he drags you off of a gen, or, if you’re lucky, you’ll spot him in the distance. Good luck on the Macmillan Estate, though; he blends in really well. I’m not proud to admit that whenever I see him in a trial, my mind freezes, and I sometimes get chased because I can’t help but scream when he pops up out of nowhere.”

“The Hag…these titles are so mean sometimes… Lisa may look terrifying, but she’s not all that bad. Her traps are a problem. Having to crouch so much slows down trial progress, and we always have to time unhooking someone just right. I suppose Nea is good against her, what with her fast crouching and fascination with flashlights.”

“The Doctor gives me mixed feelings. I know he’s a killer, but he’s also a psychiatrist; enthralled by the mind. He was lead astray in his studies by the people who manipulated him, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. Herman’s actually quite happy with his ability to release electricity from his hands. One thing though… Don’t ever call him Doctor Carter. I don’t know why he hates it so much, but he’s attacked other killers over it. He and Phillip almost killed each other when Sally called him that… She was just being professional, I know. She seems to get the short end a lot; especially when Michael first showed up…”

“The Huntress is to the killers like Jane is to the survivors. Anna likes being a mom, and she took to Susie really well. Her English is a little broken, and she needs to ask how to express something sometimes, but she’s getting better. She taught me how to throw a hatchet once! …uh…I wasn’t, um…good at it…forget that. It wasn’t important.”

“Bubba really lives up to the title The Cannibal. He can be hard to understand sometimes, but he’s like a little brother! He can be really protective or really aggressive. There isn’t an in between with him… He can get frustrated easily too, but it always makes me happy to see him in a trial! He always lets me go, but I wish he wouldn’t sometimes. He deserves to get a four kill. He’s a good kid.”

“The Nightmare is nothing short of really messed up. He’s a sadist and is more than happy to hurt people, especially Quentin. Even so…he’s funny. Freddy’s jokes and out there personality never fail to make me laugh. Did you know that when he’s relaxed and in a good mood, he purrs like a cat?”

“The Pig…is one of the more brutal of the killers. It still frustrates Jake that he can’t sabotage her traps. I feel very fearful having Amanda in a trial…her traps scare me a lot. It doesn’t help that she keeps well hidden when crouching, even though she’s wearing bright red.”

“The Clown isn’t one of my favorites to go against. He’s already super fast when he moves, which is confusing, but his bottles slow you down when they intoxicate you… He’s almost impossible to get away from… But at the same time, it’s really cool to sit on his shoulders and have him run you around! I still don’t know whether I’m supposed to call him Jeffery or Kenneth, but he seems to respond to Kenneth the most.”

“I feel for Rin…I really do. She went through something horrible, and those feelings of fear, sadness, betrayal…they followed her through her transition to being The Spirit. It always angers me that the Entity used this to its advantage… When she’s feeling up to it, Rin will take your hand and phase walk with you. It’s really strange and kinda makes me nauseous, but she enjoys being able to share that ability.”

“The Legion…well, I should break them up into individual opinions. I was really surprised to learn that ‘one’ killer was actually four! Frank is the clear leader. He’s strong-willed and keeps the others in check. Joey is quiet and isn’t afraid to challenge Frank’s decisions, but he’s always respectful about it. He and Frank are clearly very close, but they’re all very close. Julie will mess you up and she’ll laugh about it afterwards. The three of them come together to protect Susie, but don’t be fooled. Sue can handle her own just fine, and it’s scary when she does. You’d never expect it from her. As a group, they’re unstoppable, and they like to chat about trials when they get back to Ormond. They made me my own…bracelet… Moving on-”

“Adiris keeps to herself both in and out of trials. She doesn’t leave her temple during down time, but she’s more than happy to have company sometimes. She hates being called The Plague… It’s the once part of her she truly hates. She’s really interested in Freddy and Rin, how they’re undead. Much like Sally, she likes to sing. She still tries to convert everyone to her religion, but most people don’t really care about it. I’ll still sit and listen to her though.”

“Then, there’s Ghostface. He is, by all means, a complete dork… He’s scary in trials, watching from afar and figuring out exactly where to hit to take you down in one go. He blends in really well, but… It’s hard to take Jed seriously sometimes! He’s such a goof! Even so, he’s good at his job, and he enjoys it. That makes him dangerous.”

“The Demogorgon is truly a beast… I’m not sure if it has cognitive function the same way the other killers do or if it’s just a creature looking for food. Does it even know it’s in another dimension? Does it miss home like the rest of us? …well, Demo does like head scritches, so there’s that!”

“Kazan is a brute by all means of the word, but he is honorable. He should be, being a samurai, right? He hates being called The Oni, so I never refer to him as that. Rin was so intrigued to find that he was her grandfather, and he, in turn, is very protective of her, especially when he found out the dishonor her father put on the family… He’s a creature of wrath, that’s for sure, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of his kanabo when he’s angry… It’s strange to think that the same sword exists in two different forms in this realm, but I suppose that’s not the strangest thing in the world, huh?”

“The Deathslinger is by far one of the strangest killers to have ever appeared in this place... He seems so upset about his past life still, and doesn’t want to accept what happened to him. Caleb likes to tell stories about his family, and he reminisces about what happened to him. His leg brace gives some clues to his life, but he gets a little...violent if someone asks about it... He keeps closed off mostly, even from the other killers. His gun is a game changer for the killers, though; Nea and Meg really hate that it draws them in. It scares Quentin, being harpooned in the chest...”

“Ah…I suppose I should do my killer too… Um…T-The Demon…well, he’s my killer. There’s isn’t much more to say… Sebastian keeps to himself. Even though he’s my killer…and I have a history with him…I don’t actually, um, know that much ab-about him… Let’s…leave it at that.”

11 notes · View notes

edward-richtofen-queen · 5 years

Text

Lost Girl's Lullaby ★Chapter Two★

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Fandom: Dead by Daylight (Hallowed Blight Event)

Character(s): All Killers (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), All Survivors (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), Female!Reader, Vigo (Mentioned), Benedict Baker (Mentioned)

Relationship(s): All Killers/Reader (Friends), All Survivors/Reader (Acquaintances), Phillip Ojomo | The Wraith/Reader

Overview: It had been months since you'd arrived in the place you had inevitably been placed in—The Fog as it was named. You understood the basis of how to survive and escape, but you were drastically different than the others—you sympathized with the people and creatures that were hurting you and your so called friends; You remembered vividly your first day of being in the realm. What will you do when The Blight appears and takes over your little world? Which side will you end up on—Killers or Survivors?

Warning(s) for this Chapter: Sympathy for Killers

Chapter Song Inspiration: Phantom of the Opera—Prague Cello Quartet

Notes: Welcome back! This chapter was highly requested after the first one! It was extremely fun to write and took a long while to create. There will be some implied ships—mostly killers/killers and survivors/survivors (and maybe some killer/survivor)—so if you don't like them being together, please ignore them (It's not really important to the story, but I like the interactions they will make in the future). Also important—the killers and survivors won't be able to use each other's perks, they're stuck with their own and the "free" ones. Maybe in the future I'll let them use each other's? Anyway, thank you so much for the love and support and I hope you enjoy! Journal Entries from the DBD Wiki!

Dedications: @daylightbydead, @insearchofnewdreams, @irageneve and @ameliafireheart!

Taglist: N/A

✼⋅•⋅•⋅⊱•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•∙∘❆༓❆∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⊰⋅•⋅•⋅✼

Killer Campfire—The Fog

"Well, it does seem we have another survivor on our hands, don't we?" The smooth and deep voice from the large man in front of you made you shiver—you were in some trouble, weren't you? Your mouth had sealed itself shut, not saying a word as you cowered under his unnerving gaze. The other killers, made up of creatures and humans alike, seemed just as silent as a thick blanket of tension was placed over the camp. Behind you, The Wraith placed his hands comfortingly on your shoulders, his mere familiar presence a warming comfort.

"Since no one seems to want to speak—or some of you who refuse or are unable to—I will introduce myself and yourselves. It seems you've already met Phillip, The Wraith," He gestures an open hand to the man behind you as he makes a soft purr noise from his throat. "I am Evan Macmillan, known as The Trapper in trials. The large woman at the start of the row is Anna—The Huntress." The woman known as Anna wears a beautifully crafted bunny mask aged and weathered, a large axe resting in her hands as hatchets dangled at her waist. She only nods her head, a tune vibrating inside her throat as she hummed.

Several minutes later, you had introduced to everyone as you stayed silent and acknowledged them as they did you. Only a couple seemed to really speak—like Herman Carter; The Doctor along with Freddy Krueger; The Nightmare. Oddly enough, for killers meeting you for the first time they didn't seem as unwelcoming as the survivors were. Everyone seemed to make conversation as normal as Phillip picked you up and sat down, having you extremely close to make sure no rouge killer would try to kill you. Sally, the woman dressed in all white from head to toe, floated over to the log you were seated on. "Phillip's taken quite the interest in you, hasn't he?" She speaks softly and sweetly to you as you feel Phillip stir behind you.

"He's very sweet," You finally speak, his lips pressed to your forehead again. "Well, I'm here to fill you in for what Evan missed out on," Sally speaks, fixing her gown as she sits properly on the log. "You will encounter us each at least once this week. Depending on who you go against, they'll try and go easy on you so you can learn what they do. Once you fully develop your potential and perks, we'll treat you like any other survivor in trials but treat you normally outside of them," Sally's sweet voice explains in an almost professional voice as you nod.

"The Entity has taken an interest in you as well, she's letting you see us out of trials—Anyway, she dropped off a gift for you," Sally hums, a frail journal in her hands as she hands it over. It looks extremely old, dust painting the top and the pages ripped and yellowed brown. Opening the journal, you skimmed through the pages to see beautifully written cursive aged into its pages. Some of the pages didn't have dates on them, but one section of the journal was stuffed to the brim with paper on top of its entry. "Do you happen to know what day it is, Miss Smithson?" You ask politely as she nods. "It's October 12th, I believe—may I ask why you ask?"

You nod as your fingers brush over the words October 19th on the top of the page. "Just seeing if these dates line up." She leans over to look at the page and is confused under her pillow case. The date she can read, but the actual entry itself was definitely not in any type of language she'd ever read but she internally shrugs. You yelp as Phillip picks you up suddenly, carrying you like a bride as Sally gave a soft giggle. "It seems like it's time for you to go back to your camp. Trials start up too soon it seems. Please come back to visit sometime, will you?"

Carrying you back into the woods, the welcoming chill of the thick fog made the atmosphere oddly comforting. The loud chatter of survivors in the distance made Phillip stop and set you down, his hands grazing your own as he leaves a goodbye kiss to your knuckles. You blush as you lean to kiss his cheek in the same manner with a large, goofy smile on your face. He turns and wails his bell as he disappears into the darkness, you finding Claudette among the crowd to sit next to.

★。＼｜／。★

"I think Phillip's got himself a new obsession."

"It seems more like an infatuation than an obsession—he isn't a obsessive killer, you know."

"You know what I mean, Herman."

"Don't sass me, Evan."

★。＼｜／。★

The cool wisps of fog slid from your form as you arrive in your second trial that day, this place flourishing in dead corn stalks and another large decrepit home. A shack sat eerily in the corner of the the realm as very large unmoving tractors sitting parallel across from each other. The sound of a whirring chainsaw made you click to the only two people who wielded them back at the campfire—The Hillbilly or The Cannibal. Moving amongst the thick stalks, the sound of a chainsaw made you jump to the side as The Hillbilly ran (more like flew) past you. He had no heartbeat for some reason as a generator finished in the direction he was running to. Maybe that was one of his perks Sally was speaking of?

You crept to an opening in the field to find Claudette working on a generator as you whispered to her to let your presence be known. Leaning to work on the generator with her, another male (Dwight as you remembered) came to work with you as well. He seemed nervous and paranoid twenty-four seven, but one of his perks seemed to help the generator proceed a little faster than before. He tries conversation, which you oblige to as you try to get to know him. The sound of a distant chainsaw made you shiver, a bad feeling boiling in your gut. "We've got to move—!" You yelp as you push Dwight from the Generator as The Hillbilly practically barrels to hit the large piece of machinery.

Scurrying away, your feet hit the ground hard as you ran. Turning around, the speeding figure hit your back as pain spread throughout your back while you let out a pain as you tumbled to the ground. The Hillbilly gave a pained whine as he lowered his chainsaw, patting your head in apology. Leaving you on the floor, he shook his head in apology once more as he revved his chainsaw and ran away from you. Claudette was by your side a minute later, a med kit snug in her grasp. Popping open the red container, she started by rubbing a disinfectant over your wounds. "I didn't know he'd come after you," She spoke softly, wrapping your wounds tightly as you hiss in pain.

"I have—Ow! To get used to this pain if I plan—Oww! On surviving," You speak through locked teeth. Claudette hums in response as your able to stand once again, your wounds had magically disappeared and you felt new again. "Trust me, the hooks are much worse," She warns as you follow behind her quickly. She then explains the do's and do not's of going against the killer. "You know a lot about him, Claudette—I don't know whenever to take that as a good thing or a bad thing," You coo teasingly as she blushes.

"He's just a kind person at heart, even if he looks drastically different from us—he's still a human being," Claudette speaks, her voice having an undertone of sorrow and pity. Your hand finds her shoulder as you give her a smile. "He deserves respect regardless of his appearance—very well said, Claudette," You praise, her face churning in happiness. The trial didn't last that much longer after that, Nea being Memento Mori'd because she lingered too long in the trial after the gates were open and everyone being hooked at least once.

Being enveloped in the darkness as you ran from the exit gates, you were dropped into the killer camp once again. There were less killers than before, most likely in trials as you has been moments ago. Herman Carter sat in a proper chair—which was odd considering the fact of it being a campsite. His white irises caught yours as the tight mouth guards came loose to fall to the sides of his face. Curious of the mysterious man, you crept to him as he slipped a pair of slightly cracked reading glasses to his nose.

"Little minx, it's been a short while. How was your trial? Get hooked for the first time?" His voice struck bells of whiskey and honey as he spoke, groveling at each word that slipped from his chocolate lips. You shrug at his first question and nod to his second, the journal still hooked to your hip. A smile played on his lips as he examined you and psychologically analyzed you—you were different, he figured. The Entity was picky with her choices in survivors and killers, and the fact that a survivor was so able to mingle with the killers after trials if they willed it was fascinating.

"What make you different?" He asks, his finger under your chin as you closed your eyes. You trusted him by will and heart, even though your mind was sending you different signals. To follow your heart or to follow your brain? Shaking your head to yourself, you settle on a log not too far from Bubba (his nickname) as he polishes his chainsaw. You decided to crack open the journal and begin to read, fingers following the words as you looked over them.

❝19 October - The Night

It is impossible to describe the horrifying scenes I have witnessed... death and misery, in every shape of terror, rule this place. I can no longer recall how I have come to this place. All I remember is the opaque, milky fumes of opium in the murky den hazing a sweet, welcoming abyss. I awoke to dreadful screams in this endless night, at the feet an old tree that leaked foul-smelling fluids. I know not how to reach those poor souls, nor do I want to. Keeping a record is all I can do to make sense of it.❞

Closing the journal, hands wrapped around your eyes as you stiffened. The familiar purr of Phillip eased your still frame. Sitting down next to you, you lay your head against his shoulder as you ease to sleep. When you awoke in your dream, your world was black—pitch black but enough to make sure it wasn't too dark, more like a grayish black than midnight. A voice called out to you in the darkness, it's voice layered in thick whispers.

Hello, Little Lamb

#dead by daylight fanfic #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight wraith #dead by daylight #phillip ojomo x reader #lost girls lullaby series #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

26 notes · View notes