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#dbd the cannibal x reader
daddy-deathslinger · 6 months
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Oooh, I really liked that killers with a S/O who has a particular perk! May I ask for a reader whose perk is to be able to hide very well/slip away easely? As in, they are quite small and so they can crouch and slip through spaces other survivors can't to go unnotinced! Maybe the killer in question struggles to hook them because they keep slipping from his grasp, but reader never mocks him or anything and just runs away until the end of the trial where they leave an item behind as an apology (Hillbilly, Cannibal, Oni and Deathslinger, if it's not too much trouble! If they are too many, feel free to choose whichever!) Thank youuu 🩷
Hi there! What a lovely request, I hope yer happy with what I came up with! <3
The Hillbilly/Max Thompson Jr with a slippery survivor
Max is good at hunting his prey, and he usually finds them quite easily.
But there’s always one person he struggles to catch. You.
Just when he thinks he’s gotten you cornered, you slip away somewhere. It’s really frustrating! How can you find that many cracks and nooks to sneak off into? 
And his chainsaw can’t do shit once you’re out of sight again. Sure, he can saw through the wooden walls and search for you, but you’re never there.
It’s as if you disappear from the face of the earth.
One time, after a trial had ended and you, as the last survivor left, had probably escaped through the hatch, he had found something. He was going back into his house when he saw something in the mud of the cornfield. 
A necklace. Shiny, must have been made of real gold.
Max had picked it up and examined it, a smile slowly growing on his lips. He knew you wore this kind of necklace, you must have either dropped it or left it here for him to find.
And his heart pointed towards the latter.
The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer with a slippery survivor
Bubba isn’t the best tracker (it must be hard to see anything through that mask of his), but once he finds someone they won’t get away.
Except you, you always manage to get away somehow.
Be it a dark nook you can slip into, a hole that is perfectly shaped for you, or you simply just wiggle out of his grasp just as he’s about to put you on a hook.
You’re usually gone in seconds, he never has a chance to find you again.
This pains him greatly, you know that. He shrieks and yells in annoyance and anger, waving his chainsaw around in the air when he can’t find you anymore.
It almost makes you feel a bit bad.
A bit, only a bit. Enough to make you want to make it up to him somehow.
Not through sacrificing yourself though, gods no! But sometimes you leave behind small gifts for him to find.
It can be anything, really. A nice can you found in the cornfields, a bracelet that was buried in the mud. One time, you left a doll inside the house in the cornfields, knowing he would find it there after the trial.
You can only hope your little gestures are appreciated.
The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka with a slippery survivor
Kazan is a great tracker. Always has been.
He can smell blood a mile away, and see it as clear as red, shimmering pearls on the ground.
Naturally, prey have a hard time hiding from him once he has injured them.
And yet, there’s one he just can’t seem to ever catch.
This prey just vanishes from his sight the second he has injured them. It’s like they don’t even bleed! Sure, he can find trails of blood here and there, but it never leads him anywhere.
It drives him mad! If you’re in a trial these days, he’s almost certain he’s gonna leave with only three kills. You always seem to find the hatch as well, so.
Sometimes, Kazan finds things.
Things in places it’s never occurred to him to look before, but when he does he always finds a surprise.
It can be a hair tie, or even something of great worth, like a ring or earring. 
Once he found a little crocheted doll, with black buttons for eyes.
He doesn’t know where these things appear from, but something tells him they appear from the same source that so easily disappears. And that thought is a bit amusing to him, it almost brings a smile to his lips at times.
The Deathslinger/Caleb Quinn with a slippery survivor
Caleb is a proud man, that much you know.
He hates losing, and losing is exactly what he does these days whenever you’re in a trial.
His swearing can be almost amusing at times, when you peek out from a hiding place and see him frantically search for you. He never finds you, and eventually gives up.
You’ve lost count of all the times you’ve gotten the hatch.
All that being said, you make sure to never taunt him. 
You don’t want to rub it in his face, he’s only doing his job here. And so are you. It’s nothing personal.
During the last trial, you had decided to try something a bit different. You had been tinkering on things at the campfire for a while, your latest project was carving a butter knife out of a piece of wood.
It wasn’t particularly pretty, but you liked it.
You had decided to leave it behind for Caleb to find, as a little gift for all his troubles catching you. 
So, you had left it inside the Dead Dawg Saloon, at the bar. Then, you had hid.
When the rest of the gang had escaped, and Caleb eventually got back to the saloon with heavy steps, he had found it.
You had watched as he had taken the butter knife in his hand, weighed it (why would you weigh a butter knife??) and examined it. 
You will never forget the smile on his lips, as he had whispered: “What in the goddamn…” and put the knife in his jacket pocket before leaving.
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theres-a-body-here · 1 month
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Love Letter Aftermath
First part
The realization of receiving a love admission sinks in for the killers
Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Some spice Male!reader
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The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka
He's angry
Angry at you for giving him that damn letter
And angry at himself for keeping it
He keeps it on his shrine
Even while he tries to distract himself with training between trials, your letter is all that's on his mind
At least once a day, for a couple of minutes, he stares at the letter while working up the courage to crumple it and dispose of it
He never can
When Rin found the letter, his heat sunk
She thought it was cute, but rolled her eyes at how Kazan was acting
The days following the letter, you've noticed in trials with Oni, he never downs you with his Kanabo anymore, only his Katana
Even during chases, when he's activated his blood fury right behind you, he stampedes off somewhere to down anyone else
And when he carries you to hooks, you've noticed how gently he holds you
But he never stays after hooking you and seems to avoid your gaze
Strangely, Rin has been giving you some leeway during trials as well
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The Trapper - Evan MacMillan
When he got back to his realm after the trial, he immediately went to work on making a box for the letter
Yeah, a whole keepsake box for a single letter
He places it next to the box where he keeps his old drawings
Whenever he sees you in trials, he still gets those butterflies
If you step in one of his traps, he's immediately rushing to where he heard you scream
If he sees any other survivors trying to free you, he swats at them
Evan gently pulls at the jaw of the trap and pulls it apart, letting you retract your injured foot
He's trying his hardest not to ogle your legs
"Sorry," he mutters gruffly, his hands holding your leg softly while he inspects the damage
He picked up some gauze that one of the others dropped and begins to bandage your wound
He can feel your gaze burning holes into his mask as he works
He's the one to break the silence
"I've killed you... and your friends, over and over."
There's a long pause on your end before you respond
"I know"
You two leave it at that
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The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn
Caleb keeps the letter under the bar counter in his realm
Whenever he returns from an exhausting or lost trial, he looks at it
A small part of him still thinks you're messing with him
He's way too nervous and skittish around you now to do anything, so you're gonna have to initiate everything
In trials, you do your best to spend time with him
Especially when you insist that he treats you no different
When he carries you to hook, you take the moment to touch him
You turn your head to plant a kiss on the back of his neck
Caleb visibly shivers and lets out a groan
"Yer tryin' ta kill me, ain'tcha?"
"Is it working?"
Despite you asking otherwise, he tends to leave you alone when he can in trials, opting to hide the others
If you confront him about it, he'll deny it
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The Mastermind - Albert Wesker
He keeps your letter in the inner pocket of his jacket
You definitely have his full attention now
Don't expect any special treatment, because he's not gonna give it
In fact, he seems to actively seek you out first if he knows you're in his trial
Wesker gets angry when you can't loop him for more than a couple of minutes
"Are you even trying? Pathetic"
While carrying you to a hook, he's lecturing you all the way
"You didn't run it tight enough. You were too greedy with the pallet. You didn't check your blind spots."
He'll get even more irritated if you start to tear up
Can't you see he's trying to help you?
Wesker refuses to have someone so vulnerable as an admirer
So you better get to it
If you do manage to improve and become better in trials, his attitude changes
It goes from scoldings to rewards
He takes off his gloves to hold your chin and pull you close
You feel his lips ghost over your cheek and shiver when he tightens his grip on you
He stares at your face, drinking up your reactions
And then he lets you go, watching as your face twists from dazed to confused
"What? Were you expecting a kiss?"
You're gonna have to do a lot more if you wanna get a smooch from him
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The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer
He tapped your letter to the side of his chainsaw
He gets all giddy when he glances at it during his sweeps, especially if he manages to down a survivor
It's his good luck charm
If he spots you in a trial, he'll literally drop everything to rush over and give you hug
Bubba would honestly hug you all trial if you let him
He's definitely become a bit more protective over you, maybe even prone to jealousy
He doesn't even let anyone work on gens with you, revving his chainsaw if anyone gets too close
Once everyone gets the message and leaves you two be, he'll sit behind you as you work and hug you
Expect lots of nuzzles
Bubba whines when the gen is completed and you have to stand up to find a new one
He follows you like a puppy until you find the next one and the process begins anew
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The Ghostface - Danny Johnson
Danny doesn't really have anywhere he can store the letter safely
So he does the logical thing and memorizes it's contents, word for word
He doesn't care what happens to the paper
Sometimes during trials, he'll tease you by reciting it during chases
Even adding things you're certain you never added
"And I promise to always let you smash whenever and wherever you want," he says, mimicking your voice as you dangle from the hook
"I NEVER WROTE THAT!!"
Being her favorite, The Entity doesn't care if Danny spares you every trial
But he won't
Because he's a meanie
"No hard feelings, right boo?" He coos as he plunges his blade into your back
If you're sore about it, he's more than happy to make it up to you
He'll run his cold leather-gloved hands under your shirt, pressing you against a wall as you try to stay angry
"Come on, don't be like that," he mutters into your ear, squishing your sides
If you fold now, he'll tease you for being whipped
But if you stay strong, he'll pull out the big guns
He buries his masked face into your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours
"You feel that, baby? You feel how sorry I am?" He growls, pressing his hard-on against you
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bxnnywrites · 8 months
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🖤 Killers Reacting to Nervous!Reader Holding Their Hand (Pt. 2) 🖤
AN :: Since my last one was well received, I decided to do another one as a quickie! I'm also testing out a new layout so lmk what you think!! Hope you guys enjoy <3
Characters :: Kazan Yamaoka (The Oni), Eva MacMillan (The Trapper), Frank Morrison (The Legion), Susie Lavoie (The Legion), Bubba Sawyer (The Cannibal), Ellen Ripley (Bonus!) Pt 1 Here [link]
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༉ Kazan Yamaoka :: The Oni
[PT: Kazan Yamaoka: The Oni]
✴ He's surprised by it at first, your small hand in his giant one.
✴ It puts into perspective just how tiny you are compared to him, though these days it's rare for anyone to be bigger than he is.
✴ You're so small, so frail. It gives him a surge of protectiveness, the need to keep you safe.
✴ He leans over and brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it softly, gentlemanly.
✴ Fucking hell that makes you blush even more.
✴ He chuckles a bit, ruffling your hair with one hand. A small act of affection to let you know you're safe.
✴ He will keep you safe, no matter what.
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༉ Evan MacMillan :: The Trapper
[PT: Evan Macmillan: The Trapper]
✴ Honestly? He's a bit nervous too.
✴ He won't admit that though, won't even show it. Him? Nervous over someone holding his hand? Nah, he would never.
✴ He squeezes your hand in return, pulling you just a bit closer, but doesn't have much immediate reaction to it.
✴ Absolute sap about it in private though, can't stop thinking about it. It was so simple but it reminded him that you loved him, only him.
✴ The next time you're together he takes the initiative and holds your hand first. Keeping you close to him to really let everyone know who you belong to.
✴ Fuckin dork.
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༉ Frank Morrison :: The Legion
[PT: Frank Morrison: The Legion]
✴ Aw, lookit you! You're so nervous from just some hand holding.
✴ "You're damn cute when you blush like that, babe."
✴ You pout in return and he chuckles, pulling you a bit closer and kissing your forehead.
✴ "You're just provin' the point, y'know?"
✴ More pouting and he's grinning ear to ear, bastard that he is.
✴ But you suppose that's why you love him in the first place, cocky son of a bitch.
✴ Anyways, similar to Michael, his hand now. It shall be returned within 3-5 business days. Dw about it.
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༉ Susie Lavoie :: The Legion
[PT: Susie Lavoie: The Legion]
✴ asdfghjkl;'
✴ Oh my god hand? Hand Holding???? You are Holding her Hand?????
✴ Screaming internally
✴ You're blushing so much oh fuck you're so cute you're so pretty
✴ What does she do oh shit fuck uuuuuuh
✴ Holds your hand tighter, trying not to implode from her own nervous wreck of emotions.
✴ Eventually, and very quickly, she kisses your cheek.
✴ Trying not to die from her own blushing and embarrassment.
✴ You give her hand an affirming squeeze, smiling at her, and she relaxes.
✴ God how did she get so lucky?
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༉ Bubba :: The Cannibal
[PT: Bubba: The Cannibal]
✴ You...you're holding his hand?
✴ You're so gentle, your hands are so small, so soft.
✴ He could crush your hands if he wasn't careful, a similar worry to Michael's.
✴ But you were holding his hand!!! Your dainty little hand was in his!!!!
✴ It was a sign you loved him, really loved him!
✴ He starts giggling, he can't help himself. He doesn't even notice how nervous you are, consumed with his own delight.
✴ Pulls you into a really, really tight hug. One of the ones where you have to remind him to be gentle.
✴ He makes an apologetic noise and nuzzles his face into your hair, picking you up bridal style to hold you close.
✴ He's so happy you love him, he loves you just as much. He's so darn lucky to have you.
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༉ BONUS :: Ellen Ripley
[PT: Bonus: Ellen Ripley]
AN 2: wifewifewifewifewifewifewife
✴ Damn that's sweet.
✴ Sweet like the feeling of fresh coffee in her veins, like hearing her cat purr against her chest.
✴ And you're so damn cute all nervous like this, it makes her heart sing.
✴ God she's so glad to be trapped in this hellhole with you.
✴ She kisses the back of your hand and runs her thumb over it gently, giving you this look that lets you know you mean the world to her.
✴ And you look at her the same way.
✴ Wordless but full of meaning in such a simple touch. Affection that goes beyond what words could describe.
✴ The other survivors are gagging from how sweet you two are.
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Final Notes :: I'm a big butch lesbian so I added my Wife as a bonus because this was a bit of a sausage fest (besides Susie, perfect lil angel baby). It was weird writing romance for Susie tbh bc when I look at her I'm just like "Ah yes, my child." because whenever I play as her I get weirdly protective and if she gets palette stunned it becomes like, a personal offense. That's my fuckign niece dude!!!!! But I know some peeps would love to be romantic with her so I am here to provide. As is the authors duty. If you make it weird I'm shanking you behind a Wendy's.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to rb and follow if you enjoyed!! <3
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weskin-time · 1 year
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Ok so Deathslinger, Bubba, Ghostface and Michael with a survivor who yells “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” at them while they’re (the survivor) being chased by them (the killer) if that makes sense
Sorry this took so long!! this is my first time writing for the DBD killers so i hope i do them some justice!!
Stretch for DBD survivor when
DBD Killers x GN!Survior
not beta read
Deathslinger
He just wouldn’t get off your ass the entire match.
At the very beginning he was chasing Dwight before he spotted you at a nearby generator before dropping chase and picking it up with you. Weaving in between trees, ducking behind covers, even hiding in a locker never deterred this cowboy from going after you. You weren’t fully paying attention but you think you’ve heard 3 generators pop already, you were surprised you ran him for this long without getting shot or hit.
You chest hurt from how hard your heart was beating and your legs were starting to feel like lead as you ran around the Rotten Fields trying to loose the tall hulking cowboy in the corn. You weren’t even the obsession, he had so many opportunities to shoot you but it almost seemed like he missed on purpose.
You were getting a little fed up honestly.
Turning your head around to look at him aiming down his gun you yelled out to him, “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid, cowboy!!”
Now that seemed to catch him off guard. Caleb Quinn let out a horse wheeze of a laugh before white hot pain exploded in your stomach. He shot you.
You grabbed onto the harpoon like metal in your abdomen, trying to struggle against the chain as he wound up the gun to bring you closer. You grunted in pain as the tall cowboy pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t break free before you were inches away from him. Part of you thinks you fucked up by teasing him, but another part of you was relieved the chase would finally end.
You prepared to feel the barbed metal rip out of you and a slash across your chest but none came, instead his large hand came down to grip on the spear, effectively holding you in place close to him. You stared up at the massive man, his glowing white eyes bore into your sole it felt like before he pulled you closer by the metal in your stomach and leaned down to put his face in your own. Whips of grey white hair tickled your face as he looked at you with a shit eating grin on his face. You would have been blushing if all the blood wasn’t leaking out of your abdomen.
“So what if I do?” His voice was a tad raspy, it held a slight irish accent mixed with one of a western cowboy, you didn’t expect him to have a voice like that but you also don’t know what you expected him to sound like.
This was the first time you were this close to the man, and as you took in his features you realized he was a handsome man, large scar and all. You two stared at each other for what felt like a minute before he ripped the barbed spear out of your guts and he smacked you with the butt end of his gun making you fall to the ground.
You don’t know if you fucked up by teasing him but you definitely had a new problem now.
The Cannibal 
You could hear that chainsaw a mile away. You sighed as you got started putting wires together on a generator in Father Campbell’s Chapel. It had been quiet for quiet some time as you almost finished the generator, but you spoke too soon because a bleeding Meg ran past you and you began to hear heavy footsteps follow her up the stairs.
You lost your focus on the generator escaped you as it exploded in your face. Meg was already gone and now you had Bubba on your tail as you ran and jumped out the window. Barely a grunt came out of you as you landed on the ground, a two story fall was nothing but a little ache on your ankles, the Entity worked in weird ways. You turned to your left and ran your way to the killers shack, behind you you could hear the man’s chainsaw rev up.
You knew this killer was from a movie back in your own world before the Entity took you in its hard grasp, you barely remember the franchise of movies due to the Entity but every time you saw Bubba running around the map you had this flash of a memory in your head, where he’s in a radio station being distracted by a woman, her legs spread and his chainsaw running against her inner thigh. He spared her then, and you wondered if you could fluster him and use that tactic against him.
You entered the shack with an idea in your mind, he set off his chainsaw and swung it around, barely missing you as you ducked into the shack before the last swing hit you. You did your best to run him out the other door and before he could get out you slammed the pallet down on top of him. He let out a squealing sound as he tried to recover from the stun. This was all going to plan.
“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You stood in place on the other side of the pallet, your entire body told you to run but you went against it.
He straightened out his posture for a second, he looked like you just flash banged him, the skinned face on his own covered any reaction you could gauge but you assumed he was a little shocked as he wasn’t revving his chainsaw to knock the pallet into splinters.
A small gasp like sound came from him, his posture looked conflicted on what to do in this situation and you had a voice in the back of your head wondering if you made him uncomfortable. But you doubled down on your words and gave him a wink.
That seemed to knock him out of what ever kind of spell he was in, and he made a loud chocked squeak and grabbed his yellow bloodstained apron with one hand and moved it to cover his already hidden face. You did it. You flustered the man.
He dropped the apron and turned around, he looked back at you and made a sound before leaving the shack.
You watched him as he left, and you don’t think you could admit this to any other survivor by the campfire but that man was very cute and his reaction to a simple little dumb statement made your mind change it’s opinion on him.
Ghostface
You hated the Hospital. The layout was confusing, you could never find a generator, and there were too many spots a killer could hide from view. Certain killers could use that to their advantage, and one killer in particular did.
Ghostface was a mortal enemy of yours. He would always single you out every match no matter if you were the obsession or not, it was kind of your own fault for it if you were being honest. The first time you met him you made a horror movie reference and he’s been hooked on you ever since, now he chases you around every time he sees you make horror movie quips back and forth before he hooks you and leaves you for dead. He made you hurt. He tore through your flesh in a way no other killer did, he left you sore after trials when normally you were patched up and fine. He was ruthless with you
You were working on the generator in the center of the building, it wasn’t safe as it was out in the open but it was the easiest generator to find on the map. You spotted movement out of the corner of your eye, a black shadow dodged behind a door frame and it settled in your mind of who you were as to who you were being hunted by.
You stopped your movements on the generator and stared at the door frame to see a white mask pop out and look back at you. You might have been imagining it but it looked like he gave you a nod, but you still turned around and booked it. Your heart beat fast as he followed you through rooms, he tried to slash you but you vaulted through a window before he could and his knife hit the wall. He was being quiet today, quieter than normal at least.
You ran him into another room and dropped a pallet on him, stunning him for a second as you ran to get away from him.
“Come back sweetheart! I’m not gonna hurt cha’! I’m just going to bash your brains in!” He referenced The Shining yelling after you, there’s the Ghostface you know and despise.
“Oh Shut it Danny! You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You looked over your shoulder to see he gained back the space lost from being stunned.
You felt leather wrap around your arm and yank you back, turning you around and pulling you close to him. His hand left your arm and grabbed at the collar of your shirt, holding you in place unable to escape his hard grasp. Ghostface pulled you so his mask and your face were inches apart, you could hear his heavy breath muffled by his mask.
“You’ve just figured that out huh?” He didn’t give you any time to register his words before manhandling you into the large shower room of the Hospital before placing your stunned ass into a stall. “Stay here. you and i are going to have a little chat when i get done killing your friends.” He curled his fingers into air quotes on the word chat.
“Wha- huh??” You dumbly asked as he began to turn away from you.
“Oh sweetheart you haven’t noticed that you’re my favorite? That you get special treatment? How i make it hurt worse for you and no one else? You’re the only one I care to talk to hun. Now be a good pet and stay right there till i get back.”
Oh. Oh Okay. You stayed put mostly out of fear but another feeling settled deep in your stomach, a feeling you didn’t want to think about.
The Shape
For being a tall wall of a man, Micheal Myers was silent, he was scary. When they say he stalks they could never truly elaborate the pure primal fear this man made someone feel as he silently chased after them. You had found out the hard way why he was called The Shape.
You were trying to unlock a chest, the action easy but time consuming. Jiggling the lock loose always seemed to do the trick, and you had the time and ability to look around to make sure you were safe while doing so. You were safe as far as you know.
A large hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you away from the chest as if you were a baby kitten, but the collar of your shirt dug into your throat and made you choke, effectively stunning you for a short second. The killer used this as an opportunity to turn you around and grab you by the throat. You were face to face with a white empty eyed mask, the brown hair glued onto the old rubber seemed to be wearing away with age. His massive hand was around your throat, his fingers crushing your wind pipe as he lifted you into the air. Pain shot down from your jaw to your shoulders as it felt like your head was going to be ripped off. Blood couldn’t make its way to your head with his vise grip making your vision blur and begin to turn black on the edges. You struggled against his grasp, your hands trying to hold yourself up to relieve the pressure on your neck, your foot came to kick his stomach but he grip tightened and you choked and missed him.
You felt loopy as your head began to swim, you looked into the eye holes of his mask and it must have been the lack of oxygen and blood to your head but part of you liked this. Some part of you was enjoying this. This man was strong enough to hold you’re entire body weight up with just one arm as you wiggled and struggled in his grasp.
“Ohhh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” you wheezed out. Your vision started to turn fully black and your lungs began to scream at you.
Your body was jolted as if you’ve been shocked as you harshly and suddenly landed on the hard ground, you gasped and gagged for air, tears now running down your face as you coughed and cried. Your eyes throbbed as the blood began to rush back into your head, your throat burned and your shoulders ached.
You looked up to see Micheal Myers standing stiff as always looming over you. He stared down at you and tilted his head to the side as if he was a confused dog. The empty black eye holes of the mask bore into your recovering body like a cougar stalking its prey. He had dropped you. Why? Did you startle him by talking to him? Did you fluster him? you were right?? Was he going to kill you?
A generator popped in the distance and he straightened up his head. He looked down at you one last time before he turned around and began to head in the direction of the popped generator. You held your throat as you continued to gasp as you watched him walk away. He made it about a ways off before you stopped and turned back to you. You must have still been loopy from the choking because you weakly lifted up a meek thumbs up and he turned back around to find you the other survivors.
What. Was that a good thing?
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deadbydangit · 7 months
Note
Hi! If you’re open to taking requests right now could I please ask for how bubba, Jeff, and vittorio would take care of their sick s/o? Tysm!! <3
I can absolutely do that. I'm sorry it's been taking me so long to get to requests. I've been anxious, tired, and kind of depressed. But I'll keep trying to bring everyone at least one thing every day.
Taking Care of a Sick Reader
Jeff, Vittorio, Cannibal
Jeff Johanson
Jeff is a very vigilant person.
He's always been that way.
So when the first sign of you being sick appears, he knows.
You just sneezed though.
"You sneezed three times. Every time that happens you start to get sick."
And he's right.
As an artist and musician, he's trained himself to pick up on tiny little details.
First off, straight to bed.
If you're in the middle of something, he'll finish it for you.
No: ifs, ands, or buts.
You're in bed.
At least when you're sick, you get to have his amazing soup that he only gives you when you're sick.
It's his way of creating a silver lining.
He isn't big on medicines though.
Jeff was in a bad crowd, he had seen people get addicted to drugs from the littlest things.
He just doesn't want to risk that in you.
Instead, he'll go more homeopathic.
You'll be better pretty quick too.
It doesn't matter how much you coughed and sneezed, he won't get sick.
It's like he has super powers.
"I don't have super powers, I just can't be sick. Otherwise, I couldn't be there for you."
Vittorio Toscano
During his time, a cold could mean a death sentence.
So, even if he doesn't show it, he's very worried.
Vittorio is really good at hiding that worry though.
He doesn't want you to panic.
That would only make things so much worse.
Some of the other survivors might have to catch him up on modern medical knowledge.
Once he's assured that you aren't going to die, then he'll be much more helpful.
He'll insist on doing everything for you.
Even carrying you.
Everywhere.
Even if you don't need it.
He doesn't really understand that you don't need that.
Or he does, and just wants to be your hero.
Modern medicine is far from what he knew; pills and other drugs aren't common knowledge to him.
What is common is plants.
He'll be working together with Claudette to use herbs to make you feel better.
It tastes terrible.
But it does have you feeling better.
He doesn't get sick either.
He knows to wash his hands and give you some distance.
"Now that you are feeling well again, I can safely hold you."
Cannibal
This boy is surprisingly calm.
You'd expect him to panic or not know what to do.
But he's very calm.
He had a big family.
Big.
And he would usually take on a very motherly role.
He's taken care of everyone in his family with sicknesses at least once in their life, usually more.
Bubba is super good with helping you when you're sick.
He might not seem like it, but he's very tender and affectionate when he wants to be.
He isn't a fan of showing that side of him to the rest of the world though.
It's only reserved for you.
He might try and cook you some soup.
Do not eat that soup.
Seriously.
Don't eat it.
To spare his feelings, just say that your stomach hurts too much to eat.
He's very gullible.
He knows it's important that you drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.
He'll frequently check on you throughout the day too.
You'll never have an empty water glass, nor will you never have enough blankets.
He knows exactly what you need, and how much of it you need.
And, as much of a pushover he may be, you aren't getting or doing anything that will make you feel worse.
Your job is to lay in bed and get better.
His job is to take care of you.
And he takes that role very seriously.
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raccoonspooky · 1 year
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I got a wonderful commission to write Bubba going ham over some tig ol biddies in a dead by daylight setting, so I sure did write the FUCK out of that. This is just a ton of fun. Big boy gets feelings so very quickly. Listen. The first time you're given free reign over a nice pair of tits, you're gonna lose ur fkn mind ok.
(Rated E. 9k words. x Fem reader. DBD setting. Mild mommy kink. Sub!Bubba. Porn with feelings. Bubba POV. y/n device is not used in this fic.)
First few paragraphs and other links under the cut!
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It’s not often that the cannibal thinks of home. The Entity doesn’t spoil him with free reign of his memories and it tells him it is a good thing. Spare the rod, spoil the child. The sentiment rings in his thoughts and it speaks in his grandma’s voice, giving him a little taste of something he once loved so very much. In the fog, he does not dwell on hurt. If his master does not want him to remember the bloody end of things that brought him here and the heartbreak and fear that he used to carry with him, then he’s glad for it. The Entity rewards him for his understanding. He’s a good boy, a smart boy and so willing to submit. The Entity’s talons are entwined with his very soul and it feels like love. Feels like family.
Little whispers tell him that he’s meant to be here and he’s welcome to all the spoils his heart desires if he serves his purpose. The saw is the only family he has left and the Entity is kind in never keeping it far from his person. He is a tool to the all-knowing, something much much larger than Texas and he is happy to follow its commands.
He sleeps, dreaming of all the wonderful things the Entity spoils him with and he’s a glutton for the sense of warmth and sunshine. It doesn’t matter if it's fabricated. He loves it nonetheless. There’s fresh laundry on the line, shirts billow in the breeze—, Grandpa’s withered hands feebly shake as he deals out another round of cribbage. Mama’s still alive, she’s workin’ on her stitching in a rocking chair that has floorboards creaking with her movement. His brothers are at the table and no one’s bickering. He has no bruises, no one snaps at him for gurgling out his happiness and the kitchen smells like apple pie. Bubba would do anything for more of this, he’d do anything to stay right here forever— but he can already feel the pull of the Entity’s call.
It’s a gentle thing. It tells him to wake up and put on his tie. There’s work to do and it needs him to put on a brave face. He is a killer. He is a weapon and it needs him to slaughter the little bugs that have weeviled into its endless fields of fog. Rot starts small. One maggot becomes many in just a few hours. Fresh meat starts to turn the moment it’s left to sit. It's a big place in this world beyond and he’s so glad to be given such an important job.
Soon, he comes back into contact with his body and his fingers tighten around the handle of his saw with purpose. The world around him feels like a soft quilted blanket that’s pulled up to his ears, he’s safe here. Loved even. The Entity loves him and he loves it too. It saved him from the bad people who woulda killed him, who killed his brothers and left his home in ruin. Go on now, it whispers, using a voice that makes the hair on his arms stand on end. Its tone has him feeling small. Show ‘em what you’re made of. Don’t disappoint me.
He knows what realm he steps into before it stitches itself together, the air turns crisp but it’s dead in his lungs. A metal gate creaks on its hinge and dry corn stalks whisper to each other, sharing secrets in the distance. He’s in a barn and the remnants of the fog tickle his ankles as if asking him if he understands its joke. He doesn’t understand, but the licking sensation has him giggling nonetheless. This place is one of his favorites, it reminds him of home. The air’s colder though and the farmhouse that looms across the cornfield is not at all like his.
At the edge of all this, there's a sense of hunger that has his tongue anxiously rubbing against the roof of his mouth. There’s movement all around him, cold breeze sneaks through his clothes. The Entity leads him like a shepherd, pointing him in the direction of where to go and its guidance is almost chastising. He should know this by now, he should know what it needs of him. Something implores him to pivot on his heel and his anticipation is met with a metallic BANG that cuts through the realm’s relative quiet.
In an instant, hesitant trepidation cuts to rage. The Entity is hungry, it’s always hungry. It’s the Cannibal’s job to provide all that it asks for. What good is he otherwise? He charges toward the noise while tasting iron at the back of his throat, he can smell the trespassers on the wind. With his weapon raised above his head, he turns a corner to meet two strangers. His saw barks and snarls like a hungry dog. He’s snarling too. Violent, animal noises strangle out from his throat in greeting toward a man with a funny haircut and a pretty girl who scream in startled terror. The generator they were working on sputters black smoke that assaults Bubba’s nostrils and he grunts in displeasure. He’s not a fan of the smell and it adds to the sense of violence that urges him into attacking.
Keep reading on Ao3
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Masterlist
Ko-fi & Commission info
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danishpastri · 2 years
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YANDERE DBD KILLERS X DIABETIC!GN!READER
(Requested Headcannons)
The Doctor
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He immediately notices those weird shapes in your pocket.
He knows that’s your insulin. Having experience as a real doctor was finally becoming some sort of use.
His beloved is diabetic, and he plans to abuse that fact to his own will. Every time you’re in a trial together, he’ll take away your insulin and snacks just so you come crawling back to him, begging and crying.
His heart flutters at the sight. Nothing could ever be more beautiful than his beloved on their knees begging. All for him.
When he notices that your snacks are missing one day, he immediately goes feral trying to look for snacks with sugar to keep you alive and sane.
He may be sadistic, but he deeply cares about you. He’ll always leave you for last, sometimes even letting you leave through the hatch.
He wants you to know that he cares about you, and that’s exactly why he must torture you until you lose your mind~
The Hillbilly
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He’s absolutely confused.
He has no idea what “insoolin” and “snaks” are
All he knows is that he loves you and will do anything to protect you, so when he sees you munching down on some gummies in the middle of a trial to raise your sugar, he leaves you be.
When he finally knocks you down, he takes some of the gummies and snacks on them too.
He quickly looks forward to trying out your snacks every time you’re in a trial togethe
Soon enough, he’s happy to see you in every trial. Not just cause of your snacks, but because you’re you!
He wants to spend time with you, even if it means tying you up in chairs while your teammates have already been sacrificed. He’s smiling the entire time he “talks” to you, even if all he’s really doing is making senseless babbles
He hugs you and smiles, nuzzling up against your cheek.
He’s terribly terrified of the needles though. He throws a tantrum every time he sees them, eventually leading to him smashing the needles one time, causing your death soon after.
Good thing you come back with them restored. You just know now not to inject yourself in front of him
The Cannibal
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Very similar to Hillbilly. He has no idea what insulin is, but he is very familiar to snacking down.
He likes to tie you down while eating your snacks, smiling and giggling to let you know he enjoys them
If another survivor accidentally leads him to you while you’re injecting yourself with needles or having a small snack, he makes sure that other survivor is dead and stays dead.
He beats them to the ground before placing them on the hook, only beating them more and more from there
You can’t help but feel terrified… yet also quite intrigued.
He still sacrifices you from time to time, like doctor, but it’s quite less frequent. He sees you as something small and fragile.
He finally has something he needs to protect agin, and he couldn’t be happier
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seraphimaa · 1 month
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Introduction
Welcome to my blog!
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24. She/her. Scottish. Professional maladaptive daydreamer. This blog (outside of fandom simping) will include things like Cinematography, literature, ttrpg lore, art, religion, gaming and horror.
Warning: minors DNI. This blog may contain dark and triggering themes.
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I do both art and writing (to varying degrees of success). This blog is going to be somewhere to store and share my art, fics, headcanons, imagines and character analysis. It’ll be a mix of fandom x oc/reader content and general pretty stuff that inspires me. Feel free to make requests/send prompts/discuss characters and themes in my inbox! I’m a barely functioning person so I can’t promise I will always respond if a) I’m busy or b) Im not inspired by the request enough to write on it. Please be kind and remember anything I create is as a hobby outside of my working and social life.
Below I’ve listed characters I will post about. I want to put a little disclaimer that my hyper fixations fluctuate and characters I’m most likely to currently respond to prompts for/make content for are highlighted.
BG3:
Raphael, Haarlep, Astarion, Halsin, Durge, gortash, Rolan, Zevlor, Dammon, He who was, minthara
DBD:
Michael myers, ghostface, leatherface, the knight, pyramid head, trapper, Oni, legion
Requests: open!
Warning, DDDNE.
This blog does not condone any of the below triggers in real life. I use fiction and art as a way of venting my own trauma and I strongly stand against the sanitisation of artistic outlets. If this isn’t for you then go interact one of the other, very talented, blogs on this site that fit your preferences more. I’m not interested in discourse.
Trigger warning, may contain content that includes themes of:
non-con/dub-con, abuse, trauma, gore, mental health/psychosis/suicide, torture, death, cannibalism, unhealthy relationships, religious trauma, incest, kink. This isn’t an exhaustive list. Original content will come with appropriate warnings.
I like exploring both soft (but in character) and dark interpretations of characters.
Angst, hurt/comfort, smut, whump, smut, fluff, and did I mention, smut?
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babieroachy · 11 months
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✩☆𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧!☆✩
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hello, i'm jules! i write sfw agere content! send in a request and i shall deliver!
there's a criminally low amount of age regression content for a lot of the media i enjoy, so i'm taking it upon myself to change that by writing content for some obscure characters with little to no demand!
♡´・ᴗ・`♡
𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:
overwatch
call of duty
dead by daylight
fallout (4 & 76)
twd
death stranding
fortnite
( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:
d.va (ow)
junker queen (ow)
orisa (ow)
ramattra (ow)
reinhardt (ow)
roadhog (ow)
sigma (ow)
cassidy (ow)
echo (ow)
genji (ow)
hanzo (ow)
junkrat (ow)
mei (ow)
reaper (ow)
soldier: 76 (ow)
tracer (ow)
ana (ow)
kiriko (ow)
lifeweaver (ow)
lúcio (ow)
mercy (ow)
moira (ow)
zenyatta (ow)
the wraith (dbd)
the trapper (dbd)
the nurse (dbd)
the shape (dbd)
the huntress (dbd)
the cannibal (dbd)
the ghost face (dbd)
the oni (dbd)
the executioner (dbd)
the blight (dbd)
the twins (dbd)
the nemesis (dbd)
the cenobite (dbd)
the artist (dbd)
the mastermind (dbd)
the deathslinger (dbd)
the spirit (dbd)
the pig (dbd)
the knight (dbd)
dwight fairfield (dbd)
feng min (dbd)
leon scott kennedy (dbd)
haddie kaur (dbd)
vittorio toscano (dbd)
mikaela reid (dbd)
rebecca chambers (dbd)
jill valentine (dbd)
jeff johansen (dbd)
thalita lyra (dbd)
renato lyra (dbd)
sole survivor (fo4)
nick valentine (fo4)
piper (fo4)
maccready (fo4)
john hancock (fo4)
deacon (fo4)
paladin danse (fo4)
cait (fo4)
preston garvey (fo4)
beckett (fo76)
julie (appalachia radio) (fo76)
paladin rahmani (fo76)
duchess (fo76)
purveyor murmrgh (fo76)
aries (fo76)
danilo (fo76: pitt)
daryl dixon (twd)
rick grimes (twd)
carl grimes (twd)
sam porter bridges (ds)
higgs monaghan (ds)
most fortnite characters, just ask ^^
\(^ヮ^)/
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:
fluff
MILD angst
gender neutral reader
masc reader
sfw agere
sfw petre
ships / non x reader
x reader
headcanons
(ง'̀-'́)ง
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:
nsfw
excessive angst
fem reader
any request that violates standard dnis
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slasherlaurie · 10 months
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intro post xx (updated)
hiiii hello welcome to my blog 🩵 my name’s laurie, and this blog is dbd x reader centric, but i might occasionally also repost art and such of the game! with introduction out the way, here’s what to expect:
what i will/wont write:
most dbd killers (with the exception of The Clown, The Pig, and The Cannibal)
all dbd survivors
most slashers
most final girls/boys
nsfw (unless it makes me uncomfortable, then i’ll work around it), fluff, angst, pretty much the works
unsanitary/triggering kinks or fetishes
anything that makes me uncomfortable
request/blog rules:
please include what pronouns you’d like me to write in your request, otherwise i’ll just default to gender neutral or fem reader!
i’ll write headcanons, scenarios/oneshots, and fanfics, but the length will vary depending on my mood and creativity at the time.
i keep my inbox open at all times incase someone sends in something that inspires me, but please don’t expect me to write everything sent in.
be as specific as you’d like in requests! it makes it a lot easier for me to work with things sent in.
last but not least, minors do not interact, i dont want anything to do with you. this blog is an adults only space with adults only content. i will block you if i catch you. there are many sfw and minor friendly dbd blogs, this is not one.
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Danny Johnson fic ideas! He is super meticulous and follows his victims closely for a long time, he's really into stalking to get to know his victims so! I work at a coffee shop and would love it if he got to know me by being a regular my shop. We laugh and talk and flirt, I only know him by his civillian persona, Jen Olson, but he stalks me outside of work as Danny. Totally becomes obsessed with me and gets off on the dichotomy of being the nice regular customer and the cold hearted killer planning my eventual end. He also loves me being so unaware of his true nature. What seals the deal of hooking his interest in me is my Final Girl tattoo on my right forearm that is underlined with a bloody hunting knife. He wants me to be HIS final girl and sees the potential in me. Just something about his thought process and being so into me. Also maybe some breaking and entering and him being a creep going through my undwear drawer and/or watching me sleep (which I tend to do naked 👀) and taking small mementos. I own a lotta chapstick and mugs, he could probably take one without me noticing, or he takes a well loved one because he WANTS me to notice and get confused. General details, I love the color red, like a candy apple red and plaid. I love leggings and skirts and crop tops at home. I wear glasses. I usually have my hair in a bun at work and in a high pontytail at home when I'm cooking or writing, and down the rest if the time, its brown and falls to about midback. He loves to watch me cook and bake which I do often. Can be as NSFW as you want, sexual and violent is encouraged! I like him DARK! He could do something to me while or not, could just watch, (as if he wouldn't jerk off to me, or on me, while I slept.) But use your discretion! I trust you! Thank you again SO much, I love you dude! ❤ ~ @bisexual-horror-fan
Bex!!! My beloved!!!!😭😭😭💖💖💖First of all, a biiiiiig big happy birthday to YOU!!!!😍😍😍😍😍😍You're amazing, I love you so much, and I hope you have a day as wonderful as you!!!😭🫂💖💖💖 Second, I'm more than a little nervous to be posting this because until you sent this in, I had no idea what DBD was, I didn't know who Danny Johnson was, etc. etc. so I went into all the research I did totally blind (I'd be happy to share this with you once you've read this if you wanna know👀, but obviously while this was in the works I had to keep it all quiet), but I hope it all paid off and that you're able to connect with and enjoy this piece! I went in and I'm really excited for you to read it! It was a challenge to go dark but that's what makes it fun! I'll stop talking now and let you read! MWAH ~
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Seek and destroy // Danny Johnson x Final Girl!Bex
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TW; stalking, swearing, dramatic irony (my beloved💗), predatory behaviour from Danny, Bex is a fly in the web, obsessive behaviour, you're a to-be murder victim and you don't know it until you do, descriptions of physical violence and gore, Danny's a creep, broken boundaries, theft of possessions, NSFW, somnophilia (kind of), non/dub-con (male masturbation; Danny gets off to you while you're sleeping without you knowing and without your consent), panty sniffing, this is the darkest thing I've ever written and that includes the time I wrote about reader trying to kill themselves by sitting in Vincent's chair (yeah I went IN for you with this💕), NOT X READER!!! but you're welcome to read!!! Contains physical descriptions of Bex, personalised with permission (duh, it's your birthday gift), implicit cannibalism references, kind of meta because this references other horror films and other slashers (it fits in with the Scream origins of Danny, okay?), no dialogue, cum eating (Danny). He's a depraved, filthy bastard and you love him for it.
Word count: 3, 353.
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Oh, but you are beautiful.
You don't even know it, do you?
You don't know that he's been watching you for weeks already. You don't know that he's watched you working through the window of your workplace, hidden by the darkness within him but also by the shadows afforded to the tall buildings which smother the skyline. You don't know that he knows your work schedule, he knows the particular routine you carry out to settle into a shift, he knows the routine you have to mentally leave the shift as you clock out. You don't know that you're in very grave danger. You don't know any of his plans, you don't know the game he's playing, you don't know that you don't know that he's a vicious, sadistic murderer who has been plotting your violent murder this entire time.
You don't know.
But Danny knows, and he supposes that it's more fun for him if you stay in the dark, where he wants you. Where you have been for the last month while he has stalked you, learned you, studied you, mapped you out, unravelled you for who you are and put you back together in the way he wants you to be... oh, but your potential is divine... the anticipation of what he's going to do to you, of what he is already doing to you, makes the chase, the hunt, the kill, all of it, even sweeter than it already is.
It was Danny Johnson who stepped into the shadows when you began your shift five hours ago, but it is Jed Olson who enters your coffee shop.
It is the beginning of the end, of your end and he is so excited.
Let the shadow games begin.
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The first part of the game was silly, light-hearted. There was some kind of sick... joy in knowing something that you didn't. His impulsivity came from knowing that he could get away with what he was doing to you, with you; he was leading you down a slowly unwinding path which was of your own making. A joint effort, though only one party was privy to such information. From the very get go, Danny got off on the way he really was and the way you saw him. The way he wanted you to see him. Danny Johnson was sadistic, patient, a man in control who planned murders weeks in advance. The anticipation always made for a greater pay-off when the end was finally delivered. He was careful at crime scenes, a delicious, sick contrast to the way he was light-hearted towards the actual murder. But Jed Olson, oh... he always greeted you with a wide smile and gave modest responses to the flirtations you met him with. There was something about him which drew you towards him; like a moth to a flame. You would be burned, and it would make or break you, though you didn't know that. Yet. The dichotomy between who he really was and who he played for you kept him on his toes, and it only set to lure you further into the trap.
For every drink he ordered (always and deliberately your favourite, for he enjoyed the smile which lit up your gorgeous face like a Christmas tree as you complimented him on his tastes), for every cup you scrawled 'Jed' on, for every smile you gave him as he entered and left your coffee shop, you both turned further and faster down the dark road, tendrils of the achromatic heart he possessed, a withered and shrivelled thing, wrapping tighter and tighter around your own with every exchange.
You didn't suspect it, you couldn't even begin to guess at the severe mortal danger in which you found yourself.
You didn't know.
And so everything was going according to his carefully calculated, carefully arranged ritualistic sadistic game.
It was a game.
One of shadows, of deceit, of violence, of stalking, of his predation and your vulnerability, of broken boundaries... the game had more rounds than Danny had initially planned, but wasn't that what made it the most fun?
When the game surprised him and practically played itself, he knew it was a good one.
There was so much potential in you and he was eager to keep you caught like a fly in his web of lies so that he could reveal to you your truest, darkest self. You were right there, hidden beneath your surface, hidden underneath the underneath. Or so he told himself to begin with. Months to the day he decided to start following you, getting to know you in a very intense, very one-sided relationship, he started to follow you outside of your workplace. He merged your two realities so seamlessly that if he let his control slip for even a moment, he would lose track of whose routine was whose, whose home was whose. You were well and truly in the belly of the beast, swimming in hydrochloric acid waiting to be digested. You were right there, fresh and ready for the taking. For his taking. Wasn't that what you wanted? To go down in a fight? To stand up and take your life for your own, to take it back from the world which sought only to take and take and take; he knew intimately how exhausted you were after your six day work weeks. He knew well what those nine hour shifts did to you, how early you had to be awake to begin your day. You fought every single day and Danny had yet to figure out if you were aware of how strong you truly were. You were destined to be more than what you already were, he just had to get underneath your surface and dig you out of yourself.
You... You were made to be a final girl... no, no, that wasn't right, hang on... You were made to be his final girl. The tattoo on your right forearm told him everything he needed to know, and a part of him longed to launch over the counter top, seize your arm in his and carve his initials into the tattoo, on the bottom right hand side of the bloody hunting knife which underlined the bold 'final girl'. You wore your potential with pride, he had noted that very first day of visiting you in your coffee shop. Much fun was to be had in breaking you down and making you into who you really were... that dark light inside of you was to be his. You were made to be his, with just a bit more time, a lot more patience and persistence, and you would be dragged to your real self, kicking and screaming and soaked in blood – whether your own or someone else's was entirely up to you. Danny wasn't entirely heartless; you got to have a say in the end result, too. You just didn't get a say in how or when or why you got there.
That honour was Danny's.
One afternoon after another, he followed you home. Always at a safe distance, always three people behind you. It didn't matter if you saw his build way off in the crowd or not; Jed was fresh-faced, no mask, no costume, but Danny was masked as Ghost Face and stuck to the shadows; you had no way of knowing that the two were one and the same. Hell, nine times out of ten, you didn't even register the way the door to your living space took a little bit longer to close than it used to, as Danny darted in just before it could slam shut on you.
Danny stuck to the shadows so well that he became your shadow.
He was the slasher to your final girl.
Despite his patient approach to the way he stalked you and lived your life alongside you, with you totally oblivious all the while, unaware of his true nature, unaware that Danny and Jed were the same person (or even that Danny existed; he covered his tracks so well that you never thought to look for them. Why would you, when they were never visible?), Danny grew bored of just sneaking into your home and watching you cook or write, your hair in a ponytail. It was a different style to how you wore it when you were at work – it was interesting to Danny, because he and Jed were different, too, though his work was wholly different and entirely more sinister than your own. It was a bit of a stretch, the comparison, but he made it all the same as he began to think of ways to allude to you that there was something going on.
The solo round of his sadistic game was over and now... oh, now, it was your turn to play.
Every final girl deserved a chance. The fight wasn't fair, the play was rough and dirty, but he liked it like that, and he knew after all this time that you did, too. So much potential, so much raw energy just waiting to be cultivated, so much fun to be had.
It started with going through your underwear drawer while you were busy cooking in the kitchen. You were only rooms away, totally unaware of the violation of your boundaries... not the first and certainly not the last of many which Danny sought to bestow upon you. Like gifts, if you were. Strange, depraved, unwelcomed gifts. For now. But one day, oh... one day, he would cash in those receipts, and the gift of your life essence would run down his gloved hands, crimson rivulets seeping into the seams of the leather he favoured, staining his skin and leaving a metallic taste on his tongue. He hadn't yet had the pleasure of tasting you, but he would soon.
Some slashers chose to consume their victims in the physical sense. Some chose to eat away at their victims' resolve strand by strand until the victim unravelled at the seams and became a shell of themselves. Some chose to strip away at souls until the spirit broke. Some chose other methods, other means, but they all lead to the same sensation being fulfilled, the same cravings being satiated in a primal, predatory manner: taste. Touch. Possession.
Mine.
Was all Danny was thinking as he watched you get ready for bed. You slept naked, he noticed, and it only made it that much easier for him to get off on what he was putting you through. Whether or not you knew about it now, you would eventually, and that level of trauma would be with you for life. Danny would walk beside you, hidden in your shadows, for the rest of your life, and you had no idea. Yet.
He wanted to introduce himself to you. Slowly, slowly. You were a frog in a pot of water, the temperature turning in small increments from a simmer up to the boil, and it would be too late for you to hop out by the time you realised what was happening to you, what had been happening to you for almost a year by the time he decided to take a few momentos from your bedroom. To get you ready to meet him by planting a seed of suspicion in a mind as sharp, as beautiful, as yours. You were a work of art, but every art piece needs the artists' signature, and he would sign you off with a flick of his wrist, the flash of his blade... with a flourish worthy of the final girl you were.
You owned a lot of chapsticks and a lot of mugs; there was no way you would be able to use them all regularly, but Danny knew that you did. You had your favourites, of course, and you had your favourites, but you did use all your mugs, and all your chapsticks. You had such a big heart, plenty of room in your life, and with your love of horror and fantasy, Danny knew that there was plenty of room in you for him. Not that he would or could ever give you a choice. He had taken that away from you the very first day he had strolled into your coffee shop with a disarming smile as he ordered your favourite hot drink; white hot chocolate with cinnamon steamed in the milk. Very creamy, a little spicy, very sweet... like you.
You are what you consume, isn't that what people say?
The image of you spread out in bed, naked, sleeping and dead to the world, combined with famous quotes completely divorced from their original contexts, had Danny palming himself through his leathers. He got off on what he had been doing to you for all of this time, but never before had he been surrounded by you – your body, your scent, your possessions... the hand not palming himself found the collection of your favourite chapsticks and snagged the one you had used that morning. You would notice it wasn't there, you used it a lot of the time as your default option, and he could tell by the way the label was starting to peel off by the lid that it was a well loved chapstick.
You would notice it missing.
And in time, you would notice him, too.
No final girl ever gets away without first confronting her slasher. It's the ritual, the... the formula of any good horror film.
You stretched in bed, your arms over your head, your duvet crept down from your shoulders to just beneath your breasts, your chest rising and falling with every breath. Their numbers limited. Danny wondered what it would be like to climb atop your slumbering form and wrap his deft fingers around the column of your throat as you slept. Your pulse would thunder against his fingers, your body would jerk and writhe due to the oxygen deprivation, your eyes would be blown wide... or maybe you wouldn't wake. Maybe he would only make sure you never woke up, forever lost in a dream made only for you, dredged up from the oceanic depths of your vivid imagination. He would only get to kill you once, and that scenario wasn't how he wanted to do it.
He swatted the thought away like it was nothing more pesky than a fly as he undid his trousers and pulled himself out. He was rock hard, his head bright red and weeping. For you. For the way your walls would welcome him, for the way your back would arch into him but your hips would pull back into the mattress, the pleasure he would gift to you before his own pleasure somehow too much and yet... not enough.
He needed more.
How would your blood spray as he slashed your throat? Or, perhaps he would mimic your favourite slasher and slash you three times up the back, like claws, like... like a wild animal. He certainly wanted to fuck you like you were animals. He wanted you on all fours, your arse up in the air and your face down in a pillow (so easy would it be to smother you while he pounded into you from behind... you would be too lost in pleasure to notice him pressing you down by the nape of your neck, fingers delved into your brown hair, and you would lose consciousness and simply never wake up again). He wanted you under him, above him, but he mostly wanted you at his side. The final girl, the slasher's undoing. But you two would buck that trend, you would be partners in life and in crime. You had the potential and he wanted to make it his.
He wanted to make you his.
Black underwear in his peripheral vision.
Danny contorted his body and snagged them off the floor. He could just smell you through his mask and your sleepy noises, lost were you to the world, only spurred him on as he pressed the dirty panties to his mask as tightly as he could. He wouldn't take his mask off; it would ruin the ambience, make it only too easy for you to win the game before you had really begun to play if you woke up before he could finish, his hand working to get himself off as he thumbed at the beads of pre-cum gathering at his tip. He was red raw and it reminded him briefly of the candy red colour you favoured. You looked so good in red. One day, Danny would make you wear a crimson cape... again, whether it was your own or someone else's blood would be your own choice. But it would happen.
He had you so close to him and yet, so far, and on his legs did he stagger to your bedside, looking down at you as he continued to masturbate over you. Having you even closer to him only fuelled the speed at which he jerked himself off and as he bent over (somewhat awkwardly, but it was doable) to sniff your hair, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other tightly holding the panties he stole off your floor, you moaned in your sleep. He wondered what, who, you were dreaming about. For all his attempts, he couldn't climb into your head, and it enraged him. Still, in time, he would come to possess your mind, your body, your heart, your soul, he would consume you for all that you were as he took from you all that you could be. Life was full of possibilities and he wanted to take them from you, he would take them from you.
Thoughts of feeling you writhing beneath him as he murdered you tipped him over the edge in his mind from which he clung by his fingertips and he came with barely a sound, thick ropes of cum spilling over his head and dripping onto your abdomen. Your face creased lightly at the impact of wet where there shouldn't be and Danny watched as you settled again. You had no idea of how much danger you were in, of how much danger you had always been in, ever since he had decided that you were to be his next passion project, his next game and victim.
But you were to be the one who didn't get away, the one who met him where he was, the one who became his final girl. His, his, his.
His final girl.
Danny's chest heaved as he removed his mask, broke his own boundary while breaking so many of yours that it would be quicker and easier to list the ones he hadn't broken. By far, it was a shorter list.
He bent down some more and flattened his tongue along your abdomen, scooping up his cum with little fuss. You whimpered, shifted under what he was doing, and the taste of you had his eyes rolling back in his head. Fuck, why hadn't he done this sooner? Life was no fun without risks and Danny had put all of his and some of your own onto the table as he cleaned you up, tucked himself away, put your dirty panties in one of his many pockets, and stole out of your bedroom window as quickly as he had climbed through it.
Saliva glistened on your abdomen, exposed to the cool natural air, but you didn't wake. You slept on, unencumbered by the man who was stealing you from yourself, piece by piece by piece, until you would have nothing left. And then he would take more. And more. And more. Until your life left your eyes, your blood cooled on his blade, your body stilled, and he rejoiced.
But not yet.
Tomorrow, Jed would order coffee, Danny would plan, you would work, and all would go well for one of you.
For the other?
Nothing would ever be the same again.
It remained to be seen who would be who, and wasn't that fun?
Danny thought so.
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sydtaxerror · 7 months
Text
Day 9, Sea Fog.
#HOLOctober CW: gore, light-cannibalism-my-beloved, if you play dbd: immersed survivors. Chumbud reader finds themselves trapped in the fog. The DBD x Gura crossover nobody asked for. First time writing in 2nd person.
You wake up in a strange, beach-like arena of sorts, a dark fog settles over everything like a funeral shroud. There’s jagged rocks and massive shipwrecks just off-shore. An immense gate stands before you, you try with all your strength but it does not open. Nor can you cross over or under the strange, blood-stained buoys that come off of either side of it, as if some invisible force prevented it. The buoys reach as far as you can see, forming a kind of perimeter around the beach. You try to remember where you were before waking up here. You remember being at a concert, and waving your blue pen light as Gura and the rest of Myth took the stage. Then there was a black fog, slowly clouding your vision, eerily similar to the fog that now surrounds you. Then you woke up here at this ominous beach covered with gnarled driftwood and the festering corpses of a variety of marine life.  
The ocean surges and ebbs at the edges of the beach, but the waves are off somehow, discordant, instead of relaxing you the sound sets your teeth on edge. You notice the water level has risen, beginning to soak through your shoes. You need to get out of here.
You walk along the beach for a while, searching for a means of escape, before finding a dilapidated old fishing shack. As you approach it you hear a loud splashing sound and your heart starts to pound in your chest. You investigate the sound but find only a small disturbance in the water. As you enter the shack you see a strange generator that doesn’t seem to function, various parts and dials are exposed on the side, vulnerable to the elements. With how much water is flooding the area that seems ill-advised. Still you find yourself compelled to interact with it, to repair it somehow. You start moving towards it. 
“Whatcha doin!” A voice cries out from behind you at the same time you feel a tug on your shirt. Looking behind you, you see a small creature, shaped like a little girl in a red hoodie, though you know she's much more ancient than that. As you turn, you realize she's the source of the pounding in your ears, and the panicked beating of your heart. The dichotomy of a harmless little girl in a cartoonish hoodie and the sheer, otherworldly terror you can’t help but feel in her proximity, cause you to laugh and scream at the same time resulting in a strange gack sound that causes you to aspirate, falling to the ground in a coughing fit. The shark-girl looks at you like you grew a second head and bursts out laughing at your display. Whatever effect had been filling you with so much fear is instantly dispelled. This isn’t how you expected to meet your oshi.
When you both calm down you turn back to face each other. You regret it immediately as she notices the blue penlight still attached to your side, as well as your Gura t-shirt, and the Gura muffler you paid forty dollars to have shipped to you. She snickers and you look away embarrassed. “Hey um…Gawr, I guess. You can probably tell I’m a fan.”  
“Yeah but not of me. Gura’s still back on her stage, having the time of her life. I’m all by my lonesome, no more goody little two sharks.” You can sense the bitterness in her tone. “Or what, you got some Gawr merch hidden in your back pocket?” Something dawns on you and you reach for your phone, surprised to only be remembering it now, only to find your pocket empty. Instead, you click your penlight over to red and make a small “ta-da” motion with your hands, giving a wry smile. She smirks, “half a point chumbud.” 
“My phone charm has both of you on it, but it's not here. You’re on my lock screen too cause, you know, you’re like a protector.”
“Huh?” 
“I guess it's just a theory but I always thought, I dunno, that maybe you were born when Atlantis fell, that you got tough and strong so that Gura could stay a cute dork. But now things are peaceful and she can be herself again mostly. You’re the coolest part of her!”
This time she looks away, embarrassed by your earnest praise. 
“Well you're half right. I was born when Atlantis fell. That's why my worser half can’t swim without floaties. The second you humans busted open Atlantis, when the ocean swept up our parents' blood and first hit our lungs, I was born. She didn’t come out again until we finally breathed air again, way, way later.” You’re not sure how to react. “But if I was just shark-for-brains’ emotional bodyguard, the thing that runs this joint wouldn’t have scouted me for my real skillset.”
“What's that?”
“The thing that runs this place? I dunno, some sky-bug, I haven’t been paying much attention.”
“No, your skillset.”
She gets a strange expression, grinning widely. The pounding in your heart starts to gradually return to full volume. “You wanna see, eh chumbud?” Her tail slams into your legs and you find yourself flat on your back. She holds you to the ground with one foot, using a strength that should be impossible in such a small frame. “I’ll give you a hint.” She sits down on your chest, slowly wrapping her small, clawed hands around your neck. “I wasn’t born to protect her from what they wanted to do, but from what we wanted to do.” Her claws start to dig into your skin. “To kill. You. All.” In the distance a bell dings, and you see a bright light come on through the window. Gawr makes a “tch” sound and gets up. “Hold that thought chumbud, I gotta deal with some rats.” She points to the generator. “No touching that thing. Who ya gonna listen to, some voice in your head or your oshi?” As soon as she crosses the threshold of the shack she vanishes into the murky waters with a splash. 
You take a moment to recover, massaging your throat and trying to wrap your head around what just happened. If that bell hadn’t gone off, what would she have done? She wouldn’t really kill a human, would she? Just then an old man burst through the door, immediately starting to repair the generator. He takes one look at your startled expression and rolls his eyes. “Great, we got a fucking new guy. No wonder shit ain’t done yet.” When you continue to stare blankly he yells, “get your ass over here ya idiot.” His yelling and your pre-existing compulsion are enough to convince you, you crawl over and start helping him, amazed that you know exactly which dials to spin and which levers to pull. Even if those movements seem logically like they shouldn’t be changing anything. After half a minute or so the dread fills your heart again. The old man starts to run, but you see a shadow appear near the entrance. Gawr launches from the water, crossing the length of the room. “How dare you leave my chumbud for dead like that!” She snatches the old man by his leg and drags him through the opposite door. Disappearing beneath the waves. You hear splashing and screaming but can’t see what's happening past the generator. “I’m sick of people trying to leave me.” 
You turn the final knob and at the same moment hear a final scream. The generator in front of you makes a familiar “ding” noise and the room floods with light. You run out the door and see the giant gate from before is open now. Making a run for it, you look behind you just in time to see a skull float to the top of a pool of blood and viscera. You also spot a shadow beneath the water, heading straight for you. Just as you’re almost across the threshold you feel your legs pulled out from under you, and find yourself dragged away, pulled under the suddenly much deeper water. Despite the fact there’s no air to carry the sound, her voice rings clear in your ears. “What did I just say.” The hurt in her voice stings, in spite of everything.
“Just for that you’re getting demoted. You’re not a chumbud anymore, you’re just chum. And you know what sharks do to chum.”
As she's tearing you apart, piece by piece, your screams inevitably pull water into your lungs. Your vision starts to go black, but you have a brief moment of lucidity when she wraps her hand around your still-beating heart. She pulls it to her lips. “This is all I can do for you. I can make sure none of the others get you.” She looks you directly in the eyes, and opens her mouth, revealing rows of serrated teeth. “You’ll always be mine. Every time.” She bites down and your vision goes black. 
You wake up in a forest, though you still hear those strange waves and parts of it seem to be flooded. You check yourself for the wounds you know should be there but find none. Then, you hear a voice that both comforts and haunts you.
“Heya, chum.”
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theres-a-body-here · 2 months
Text
Recieving a love letter
Part two
You decided that the best time to give it to them (pause) is during a trial
Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Death, some spice Male!reader
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The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka
Impossible... You're both men
Kazan cannot accept this
This simply wasn't acceptable during his era
He immediately smashes your head in with his Kanabo on instinct
Gay panic defense
The evil has been dealt with, Kazan lets out a deep exhale
But...his eyes wander to the letter, still within your cold, stiff grasp
Advantages come from all angles... Don't they?
Kazan takes the letter, convincing himself he'll use whatever information he finds inside against you
It smells like you... Not that he checked
(He did)
A red wax seal holds the letter closed
Kazan looks closer
You had carved his family crest into the wax
Something foreign invades his body, something other than rage
It's nervousness
He opens the letter, making sure to keep the seal intact
For no reason in particular
(He's pocketing that mofo)
Instantly, he's impressed by your penmanship
So organized, clean, and sharp
But its contents are even more eye catching
The love letter is short and sweet
But what follows is even sweeter
A haiku
Kazan feels his heart skip a beat
He checks it once, then again, and one more for good measure
Yep, no mistakes
The loud pop of a gen echoes through the trialground, snapping him out of his trance
Kazan whips his head all around, looking for witnesses
Finding none, he pockets the letter
He stares at your lifeless body, feeling something else flutter in his chest
Guilt
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The Trapper - Evan MacMillan
Evan stares at you as you hold your letter out for him to take
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he takes it
He brings it to his face, inspecting it through the holes of his mask
Evan has absolutely no idea what to do here
He looks back at you
"Do you...want me to fuck you?"
Romantic gestures are new territories for Evan, so he honestly thinks this is just your way of asking for dick
Whichever the case, he has a job to do
He puts you down without hesitation and hooks you up, leaving without a second glance
He's still holding the letter
Part of him wants to rip it up, and the other is curious to know what you wrote
He sloppily tears the letter open, reading it hastily as he walks to the next gen
Evan stops when he reads a bit more
You weren't asking for a ball slapping, eye watering, toe curling, deep dick fuck...
You were asking for his heart
You wanted all of him, hooks and all
Okay now he feels a bit bad
Evan reads some more
You actually drew a portrait of him within the letter, saying you learnt of his knack for art from Philip
Now he feels even worse
He lets the others save you without hiccup
In fact, he basically leaves for alone for the rest of the trial
He stops chasing and hurting the others occasionally to stare at you from afar, observing that focused look on your face as you work on gens or heal a teammate
Evan feels butterflies and he no longer has the strength to swat at them
It doesn't matter if he kills all your friends or if they opened the gates and left; Eventually, you're alone with him
He holds your letter out, watching as confusion sets on your face
"I'm dirty and sloppy... I'll ruin it"
He sounds vulnerable, waiting for you to respond
You curl your hand over his, folding the letter into his palm
"I want you to keep it," you say softly, as of talking to an apprehensive deer
He doesn't know what to say
Whatever he was going to respond with gets stuck in his throat as you lean in to kiss the cheek of his mask
He watches as you leave through the exit gate, glancing down at the letter in his hand
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The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn
Obviously you're joking... Right?
Cuz there's no way you'd be attracted to someone like him— Old, beat-up, and grumpy
You'd have to push him some more if you want him to accept the letter
Convince him you're being genuine
Eventually, he gives in and takes the letter from you
He glances around nervously, like he's expecting the other survivors to jump out and laugh at him for falling for the joke
He opens the letter, stunned when he sees there's actually things written inside
A blush creeps into his face as he reads, only deepening when he reads more
After he's done, Caleb can't even meet your gaze
After a few moments of silence, he speaks
"I can.....uhhh....keep this... right?"
Talk about awk as hell
Even after the trial, he lies awake thinking about it
Caleb rereads the letter over and over
You're gonna have to be the one to seek him out outside of trials since he's way too embarrassed now
"Yer serious 'bout this, ain'tcha?"
He decides to let his guard down just a bit to let you in
Be prepared to give him lots of reassurance
"Yer sure ya ain't mistaken?"
Caleb isn't one for words, so instead of writing you a letter, he makes you trinkets out of scrap metal
If you kiss him as thanks, he'll actually die on the spot
So please don't... unless you're evil as hell
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The Mastermind - Albert Wesker
Wesker makes you kneel as you give him the letter
After snatching it out of your hands, he scans it meticulously
"I see you've made eleven spelling mistakes"
He enjoys the way you tense up instantly, like a puppy waiting to be put on punishment
"How adorable"
He ALLOWS you to watch him put the letter in his inner coat pocket
He would never admit it, but this certainly boosted his ego to new heights
Albert lifts you off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder
He carries you to the basement
"Stay here while I deal with your companions"
He leaves to kill the rest of your friends
After every hook, he pats his chest to make sure the letter is still there
He'll deny he ever did that if you ask him though
Once he returns, Wesker will bombard you with questions, expecting an answer within 5 seconds or less
What took you so long? What do you like most about him? Would you choose him over your friends? How can you satisfy him?
He loves how easily you crumble under his interrogation, blushing and stammering like a fool
Once he's had his fill, he picks you up again
He carries you to hatch
Before he lets you go, he grips your chin and makes you look at him
"I suppose I ought to leave you with something"
Wesker reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of sunglasses
"I hope you can explain this to your allies," he chuckles
Before you can protest, he puts them on you and drops you into the hole
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The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer
Freezes in place and gasps when he sees you hold out your letter
He lets out a happy squeal before dropping his hammer and chainsaw to the ground
Bubba takes the letter from you gently, treating it like glass
He immediately plops onto the ground
He tears open the envelope carefully and take out the letter
He's completely forgotten about the trial
He reads the letter, shaking with excitement
It's sappy, sweet, and everything he's ever wanted
Even when the sounds of popping generators ring through the trial grounds, Bubba doesn't take his eyes off the letter for a second
He occasionally stops reading to either make a sound of happiness or cover his face out of embarrassment
Once he's finished, Bubba will stand up and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up a bit and swaying you around like a ragdoll
You're definitely leaving this trial unharmed
He grabs your hand tightly, marching over to the hatch or exit gates and lets you leave with a goofy wave
The Entity doesn't even punish him for it since his joy was so great it made up for the lack of bad emotions from the survivors
He immediately works on writing a letter for you after the trial is over
The next time you see him, expect another bear hug followed by a letter being shoved in your face
It's messy, sticky, and covered in glitter
Crudely drawn hearts cover the inside as the letters are shaky and almost intelligible
But you can tell Bubba put his whole heart into it
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The Ghostface - Danny Johnson
Instantly smug as hell
"Oh, what's that? That for me?"
He takes it from you and immediately tears it open, tossing the envelope behind him nonchalantly
His mask moves as he visibly reads through the letter, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head
Danny finds this scenario so fucking funny— A survivor having a crush on a killer
After he's done, he looks up at you
"Do you have daddy issues or something?'
He laughs loudly when he sees a hurt expression flash across your face, walking over to wrap an arm around your shoulders
"I'm just messing with ya, cutie"
Danny marches over with his head high to one of the hooked survivors, waving the letter in their face
You stand to the side awkwardly, unable to meet your friend's bewildered look
"Your homeboy is down bad for me. Whaddya think about that?"
The survivor grits their teeth struggling to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing their chest
"I think....Gah!...they.... have daddy issues...fuck!"
"THATS WHAT I SAID!"
You're never living this down
He goes around the map showing off your love letter to the others
After he finishes gloating, Danny hooks you
What? He's the Entity's favorite! He can't his reputation be tarnished
Outside of the trial, he follows you around like a shadow
He deadass interrupts your conversations with the others to tell you he wants attention, and you'd better deliver
Your love letter was basically an invitation for him to claim you as his own, whether you regret it or not
You're his now
Like a housecat that swats at others who get too close to their owner
"That kiss factory better be open, pookie"
He says shit like this in front of any survivor or killer
621 notes · View notes
sloppy-butcher · 4 years
Note
I AM SORRY IN ADVANCE BUT HCS FOR BUBBA WHEN HIS S/O IS MAD AT HIM (if i already sent this sorry my brain says no no to memory)
heyy bby! i haven’t received anything before from you so it’s all gucci!
this will officially be my first Bubba request so... apologies if the they are kinda bad :/ also WHY THE HURT?? poor baby man! u monster
the reader is left ambiguous (altho it reads between from a killer pov)
also also sorry this took so long to come out <33
HeadCanons for The Cannibal (Bubba Sawyer) with an upset S/O
It would take a lot to rattle this guy’s nerves. I mean, considering how Bubba has grown up and with who, he has developed the thickest of skins. Or maybe it’s ignorance;  he never really understood peoples emotions thus never defined the line between what is love and hate. Either way, Bubba would not recognize right away that you were mad at him. Cold shoulders and harsh words all bounce off his child-like personality, leaving him none-the-wiser to your true intentions. He’d think everything was normal and that you were fine having no idea the storm that raged below the surface.
It would only sink in when you would refuse to hug him. Bubba would lift both his arms to greet you after a long working day, grunting happily like a gleeful pig. He’d grin showing off his million-dollar smile and would frantically wave his hands in a beckoning motion. His heart would practically shatter when you remained motionless. You could see the gears turning over in his head and smell the smoke pouring out his ears. He’d try again squealing with desperation for you to join him. It is only when you shook your head and turned away that Bubba finally understood. He loves you. He loves how you were always kind and gentle to him, eager to sit comfortably in his arms or let him touch you. There was no fighting from you, no hitting or shout. It was your patience that Bubba really thrived on. So when you actively refused his invitation for hugs, Bubba literally froze.
His moment of stone-cold realization would quickly delve into a frenzied panic. His mind would start racing at 100 miles per hour. What did he do wrong? Why were you mad at him? Did you not love him anymore? What if you never loved him again? Bubba started to shake uncontrollably.
After some time to himself, with his thoughts in some kind of order, Bubba would feel nothing but scared. He liked having you around so SO much and the very idea of never being able to run his fingers through your hair made his blood run cold. He hated himself for making you angry and for not picking up on your bad mood earlier. His performance in trials would be greatly affected by this change to the point that other killers would have to intervene (mainly Amanda and Caleb as Bubba was most comfortable with them). They would try to scold the poor guy, warning him that if he didn’t pick his socks up he’d get into some serious trouble, but whatever they said to him received no reaction. He just hung his head, too sad and distraught to even look at them. It was Amanda who finally cracked the code, sighing at the familiar sight of heartbreak and punched the bigger guy on the shoulder. “Just talk to them dumbass.”
That was easier said than done for the big guy, words weren’t exactly something he was good at. So instead he vowed to speak to you in the language he knew best, the way of arts and crafts. Ordinarily, he would make stuff out of human waste; teeth for jewels in necklaces, faces for masks and hair for bracelets. But he was lacking the essential ingredients for his masterpieces (the Entity is one stingy bitch and refuses to give up any of Its meals body parts). So Bubba had to get more creative. He’d leave you gifts - Dwight's folded shirt stained by blood, Jake’s sabo gloves, Yui’s killer biker jacket and so on and so forth. He’d leave these offering to you on the floor of your nightly walks, having mesmerized your routes Bubba placed each gift with specific intent knowing that you would find them when he was long gone.
Bubba didn’t expect it when one day you showed surprisingly yourself. You had arrived in his clearing in the woods unannounced and it startled Bubba. He remains still in a sitting position, his hands occupied with the preparation of yet another gift to you. He strained his eyes trying to find any indication that you weren’t really there and instead some ghost or cruel trick of the light. Yet his eyes failed him for you were real. You swayed under his gaze before you opened your mouth to utter an apology. Bubba jumped at your voice; to him, it felt like he hadn’t heard it in years. Without thinking it Bubba leaned towards you before throwing himself off balance. He reached for you and you eagerly went to him. His large arms engulfed you and happily rejoiced in your return. Bubba is a simple guy and although he is bound to make mistakes, he will try his best to fix them.
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fandom-go-round · 3 years
Note
Shall I request this: male Killers finding themselves in a trial with a second killer and their male S/O. BUT, their S/O has had a bad day and sucker punches the second killer and knocks them out only to immediately try and help said killer
Tl;dr-male killers react to their male s/o knocking other killers unconscious
I’m not going to do all of the male killers only some, let me know if you want other ones later!
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Implied Character Death, Joking about Death
The Hillbilly/Max Thompson:
Max turns the corner right as you punch Trapper in the face, his body hitting the ground hard enough to make it shake. His eyes go wide when you seem to panic, quickly going to try and shake his shoulders. Max slowly wonders over, giving Trapper a slight kick. Yup. The older man is totally out.
As concerned as Max is, he thinks it’s a little funny how much you’re panicking. He laughs as you begin to try and convince him to help, Max shaking his head and taking your hand. Neither of you want to be here when Evan wakes up and Max is willing to lead you away. Also, that was really hot and he doesn’t want to let you out of his sight for a little bit.
The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer:
He’s shocked that you were able to get enough force in your hand to knock anyone out, let along Michael fucking Myers. Bubba is more afraid than you are, a loud yelp quickly telling you he was nearby. You just keep looking between your hand and Michael, body frozen. He’s quick to take you away, slinging you over his shoulder and taking off. He does not want to see how the Shape is going to react.
Bubba begins to look you over the second you’re alone, hands trailing from your cheeks down your arms. He wants to make sure you’re really ok and won’t let you go until he’s satisfied. He keeps you close for the rest of the trail, letting Michael do all the work. He wants to keep you as far away from possible death. Even Bubba doesn’t know if he can save you.
The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka:
He’s very proud of you as Ghostface falls, ignoring your look of shock as he calmly walks over. Kazan gives him a hard kick to make sure before turning to you with a nod. He watches as you begin to swear, not understanding what the big deal is. Ghostface is annoying and it was easy to tell that you were in a bad mood.
He lets you follow him the rest of the trial, not saying anything as you hide behind him. He thinks that it’s endearing that you’re trying to pretend that nothing happened, even as Ghostface makes it very clear he is pissed. The masked man doesn’t get close, narrowly dodging a club before running off. Kazan is not going to let him take this victory away from you; you won fair and square after all.
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deadbydangit · 7 months
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Could you do one of what the killers would be like as parents? With Myers, Adriana, Ghostface, Bubba, Spirit and HillBilly
I can absolutely do this. I love this wholesome stuff. It's a nice break from what I usually do. I'm going to format this one a bit differently.
As Parents
Shape, Skull Merchant, Ghostface, Cannibal, Spirit, Hillbilly
Shape
Micheal would never consider having kids in general. However, he isn't a terrible father. But, he can be emotionally detached. If your child gets hurt, he isn't too great at showing empathy. He'll pick them up, make sure they aren't bleeding or dying, and go on his way. But, hey, his kids will get tuff and very little will phase them. They might have trouble making friends, with dad being terrifying and all. But no one will ever pick on them, that's for sure.
Skull Merchant
She's a very busy woman and having kids are on the very bottom of her 'to do' list. But she has them, and, despite being kind of a bitch to everyone else, she loves her kids. These kids will be spoiled too. She's got the money, and those kids will never be without the best, which includes the best education. She's raising the future of her company after all. However, these kids are going to just like her: cocky little shits. And she couldn't be more proud.
Ghostface
Due to Danny's inability to take anything seriously, he might not be the best parent ever. But he is trying; you have to give him credit for that. Making healthy food while he could just order junk food, or getting his kids to sit down and do homework requires responsibility... he's not good at that. But, these kids have the best sense of humor ever; maybe a little dark though.
Cannibal
When he was with his family, he took on a very nurturing motherly role. It's just what was expected of him. Due to that, he's amazing with kids. They will never feel unloved. Bubba is great at caring for others emotional and physical needs. He might need a different cook book; but overall he's an amazing father.
Spirit
She's an anxious mom. Seeing what happened to her, it's honestly not that surprising. He father murdered her. She can get very overprotective at times, maybe even a little overbearing. Her children will be taught kendo, there is no debating. She does love her kids, so much. But shaking that feeling of fear is difficult for her.
Hillbilly
He never had a mother or father figure, so he might be confused and anxious. But he's determined to be the best dad ever to make up for what he missed out on. He might spoil his kids a little too much though. He knows he isn't the smartest, so he might be going to others for help with cooking or school work. But, not a day in their lives will those children feel unloved or self-conscious. They are his world and he wants them to know that.
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