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#dead by daylight male killers

babiebom · 9 months

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Dbd Killers as Nicknames my friends and I use in game

A/N: because i think. I only have like one thing posted for dbd. These are the Male Killers!

Tw:maybe cursing? None? Slight sexualization of certain killers?

Genre:headcanons? Or written like headcanons at least

Wc: maybe 3+ for each killer?

The Trapper/Evan Macmillan

Has no nickname

Is just "the trapper"

Always said in a panic tho

Is usually called a "stupid stupid man"

The Clown/Jeffrey Hawk

"Oh it's *imitation of him coughing*"

His nickname is just us coughing in gross ways

Also "you absolute baboon" by when we're upset

The Ghostface/Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson

My boyfriend

I exclusively call him this

Everyone else says "oh no your boyfriend is here"

Or we call him Ghost-a Fa-che in really bad italian accents

The Executioner/Pyramid Head

Conehead

Forgot the word pyramid

Also trianglehead

Usually proceeded or followed by "ewwwwww why is he sludging up the place????"

The Twins/Victor Deshayes

Ugly little baby

We forgot that he is not really a baby

We also call him Viktor Vector

Usually followed by "kill her little baby"

Or "stomp on himmmmm"

Then "yeah that's what you get you ugly baby"

The Mastermind/Albert Wesker

Lil Kitty Meow Meow

Bc I accidentally called him whisker

And that reminded me of the Lil kitty meow meow meme

Is usually followed by his "urgh" when he does the dashy thing

The Nemesis/Nemesis

Nemesussy

It was a slip of the tongue that stuck

I also call him Thanos half the time

I forget his name and panic

Then call him Thanos because big purple man

Usually proceeded by "oh god it's Thanos I can see his stupid little zombies"

The Doctor/Herman Carter

Has no nickname but is usually called out by saying "sorry I can't talk right now he's ELECTROCUTING ME"

followed by imitations of his laugh

The Legion/Frank&Joey

I do not know how to write this

It's literally just The Legion but pronounced with a very bad French accent

Also Franklin or Frankie-boy

And Josepher and "which one is this one again"

The Trickster/Jiwoon Hak

We either call him Trickster

Or Jungkook from Bts(yes this whole thing)

Is usually followed by "bob and weave and bob and weave"

Or is followed by "please dont kamsahamnida me"

The Wraith/ Phillip Ojomo

Bing Bong

Because when he hits his little thing it goes Bing Bong

Usually proceeded by "oh god" and "please don't be bingbong"

Usually followed by "oh god where did he go"

The Hillbilly/ Max Thompson Jr

We just call him by Max

I usually call him Maxie-poo

Cute

The Cannibal/ Bubba Sawyer

Like Max we just call Bubba by Bubba

Bubba is a cute nickname in of itself

The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka

Onigiri

Because I said "Oni? Like onigiri?"

Followed by screaming or "someone stop him he's eating my blood"

The Deathslinger/Caleb Quinn

Rootie tootie mcshooty shooty

Because it's funny

Also sometimes call him the hashslinger

Or hashslinging slashed

From spongebob because we again forgot his name

The Shape/Michael Myers

Miku Miku

Because I panicked when I saw him and could not speak or remember his name for the life of me

Usually followed by "oh god this is gonna be a bad match"

Also followed by singing the song but only by saying Bing and bong.

The Nightmare/Freddy Kreuger

"Ew its stupid what's his face....sleepytime....nightnight"

Has no real nickname because we're not happy to see him

"Why is there blood coming out of this...oh."

"Haha your neck is bent weird"

The Blight/Talbot Grimes

Incoherent screaming

Literally it's "uhhhh HA HUHHHH WHA HELP"

Followed by "why is he so fast?"

Or is called speedy Gonzales or Sonic

The Knight/Tarhos Kovács

I have accidentally called him the borgo

We also just call him the knight or just scream

The Cenobite/Elliot Spencer

Pinhead

I find it funny that that is an actual name for him

Because we usually call him that

The Demogorgon(?)

Or "stupid pinhead" but you get the gist

Also BabyBox

Bad doggie

He is a dog that is bad because he keeps biting me with his weird little face

The Dredge(?)

Is this thing a male? Idk but it counts

Again we are bad at remembering names

Half the time he is called the sludge

Usually followed by "why is it nighttime"

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight killer #dead by daylight headcanons #dbd shitpost #dbd headcanons #dbd killer #dbd #dbd ghostface #dbd doctor #dbd wraith #dbd wesker #dead by daylight shitpost #dbd male killers #dead by daylight male killers #slashers #slasher headcanons

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theres-a-body-here · 2 months

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Sable: "When meeting new people remember to keep it light and casual. Use our conversation starters if you get in trouble"

(Y/N), nodding along: "Light and casual, got it"

~~~~

(Y/N), throwing themselves at the Killer's feet: "I LOVE SWEATY, EVIL, AND VIOLENT MEN, PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

Screams and yells echo through the realm as the killer frantically attempts to shake off (Y/N) from their thighs

~~~~

Sable, panicking and holding her head: "He's pulling the freak-off card THIS EARLY?"

Mikaela, looking through binoculars: "If he u-turns the topic back to the Mori Rework we might clutch this"

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #male!reader #dead by daylight #male reader #dbd #slasher x reader #slashers #dbd shitpost #dbd incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #sable ward #all things wicked #mikaela reid #killers x reader #killers dbd #dbd killer

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apollodarling-writes · 5 months

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omg i had a thought about dbd ghostface. mdni !!

cw : yandere themes, perv danny, non-consensual kissing, danny dry humps you, non-consensually nsfw themes, non-consensual picture taking, danny forces an orgasm out of you, slight knife-play, danny calls the reader bunny, afab anatomy but no prns used, danny cuts open readers shirt, implied murder of other survivors,

“thaaats it, bunny. cry f’me.” danny’s eyes lock onto yours as he shifts to grab his polaroid. his breathing becomes labored as he lifts his mask angling the camera to get the both of you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. a broad grin stretched across his features, sweat dripping down his temple as he admires you.

“pl—please…. let me go.” you cry.

“let you go? but bunny, don’t you enjoy our time together?” he sneers, trailing the cool blade of his bowie knife along your exposed flesh. his fingers roughly grip your jaw, molding his lips to yours in a feverish display of his obvious affection. his lips trail along your jaw and throat, groaning as you try to squirm away from his onslaught.

danny presses your shoulders down, grinding his half-hard cock into the soft meat of your thigh. he angles his hips in a way that causes a wave of pleasure to wash over you, a grin splitting his cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“y’liked that didn’t you, bunny?” he groans, rutting his hips into you faster, his head dropping to the curve of your throat and pressing open mouthed kisses to your bloodied and sweat-slicked flesh. “just be a good bunny and take it.”

you soon feel a familiar sensation pooling in your tummy, panties unwillingly sticky with arousal, and you couldn’t feel more disgusted with yourself. you feel the tip of his blade slice open your shirt, tracing what you assume to be the letters of his name on your stomach.

“bunny,” danny murmurs, “i’m gonna cum. need y’to cum with me.”

you shake your head, a sob ripping from your throat as he sinks his knife into your thigh. “cum. or i’ll make sure your next match is hell.”

danny brushes his cockhead against your clit in a way that has your back arching and a poorly muffled whine leaving your lips — cumming with the man that has made your new life hell.

“that’s a good bunny, cum f’me.” he growls, his rutting slowly coming to stop. danny watches with interest as tears stream down your cheeks, his tongue darting out to lick them away.

“so pretty.” danny’s eyes soften ever so slightly as he leans down to kiss your lips before throwing you over his shoulder. you find no will to struggle against him — you knew you would be hooked and killed by the entity immediately. that’s just how danny rolled.

to your surprise, danny walks right past every hook he comes across, seemingly searching for something in particular. was he going to let you get hatch? was he really going to let you escape? sure enough, danny drops you right in front of hatch, stealing another kiss as compensation.

“bye bye, little bunny. i look forward to our next trial together.” he waves at you in a way that has you scrambling to exit through the hatch, a frown tugging at his lips as he pulls his mask back down.

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lukabitch · 1 year

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Idk if requests are off, I'm sorry if they are Q-Q. But could we get a "How they would react" kind of thing, to one of the other survivors tripping you mid chase to save themselves?

With M! Reader x your choice of killers

(maybe one of the killers being Wesker or Myers?)

Also, take as much time as you need <3

Personally I think I would’ve tripped myself. You can always check my pinned post to see if requests are open! Thank you so much for the request Anon! :)

Killers: Wesker, Micheal Myers, Ghostface, Trickster.

Cw: typical dbd violence, betrayal, lil bit of angst, wholesome stuff.

Wesker:

It was a standard last chase of the trial. You were just trying to make it to the exit gate.

It was just you and your injured teammate. You though you had this under control.

That was until your teammate tripped you and tried to make the final sprint.

Key word is tried.

Wesker was having non of it.

He would very quickly take care of the traitor.

He watched you slowly crawl towards the gate in a last ditch effort.

He would very calmly walk over and pick you up slinging you over his shoulder.

Of course you put up the best fight you could.

Until you realize that Wesker was surprisingly giving you mercy.

Don’t be fooled though he may be merciful but not for long.

You found this out when he just threw you out.

“Please be careful next time. I won’t be so nice if you fall for that trick again.”

Ghostface:

You were running away with all the energy you had and Ghostie was hot on your trail.

He almost had you that was until your teammate came out of nowhere.

The person was quick to realize what they had just done and acted just as fast.

They pushed you back into him.

Needless to say he was absolutely fuming.

How dare that piece of shit ruin the perfect chase he was having.

Not only did the asshole ruin the chase they also hurt your ankle.

“Here let me help.” You had to do a double take. A killer being nice to you? Huh?

He picked you up and placed you next to a gate.

“I won’t be so nice next time pretty boy.” You got head pats before he went off.

Trickster:

He was being particularly ruthless this trial not slowing down with his knives.

This resulted in everyone being on edge the entire trial.

You were just unlucky enough to be the dude he was chasing.

A glimmer of hope came when you saw one of your teammates ahead.

Though it was short lived when they hit you in the face with a rock.

You have to admit they had good aim.

But this most certainly did not fly with Trickster.

Your face was his to mess up how dare some bitch take his joy.

He completely ignored you and ran ahead knocking said bitch to the ground.

“Don’t worry song bird I’ll be saving you for last!” He says that like it’s good thing but hey maybe you’ll get out.

Micheal Myers:

You fucked up.

You’re dumbass let him get to tier 3 and your last teammate was pissed.

So pissed off that they kicked you in the dick when you were being chased.

Micheal watched you roll on the ground in pain.

He didn’t really have time to waste and left you to take care of yourself.

A quick one two and the teammate was dead and you were alone.

You didn’t really put up a fight when he came back for you.

But to your surprise he pointed to where the hatch was.

He got joy out of your pain and you did help him accidentally.

He just thinks you did your job very well today.

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diejager · 1 year

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Run, Rabbit Run! Pt.2

Cw: implied smut, DARK, yandere, murder, blood and gore, Ghostface is a menace, betrayal, canon typical violence. Wc: 1.4k

Note: pt 3??

He loved the look of fear on your face, the dread that sunk into your skin, and the slight shaking in your hand. Your face drained, seeming so frozen that he thought you stopped breathing and died, heart seizing frightfully; but he knew that expression when your brain calculated the risks for fight or flight. On this occasion, it was flight.

You bolted, legs swinging you over a window and through the tall grass (or corn, was it a corn field? It didn't matter to Ghostface). In your instantaneous act of terror, you chose a random direction, unaware that you were leading him to a corner. He followed behind you, neither too close nor too far, just at the right distance to have your heart beat frightfully and not hear his breathing.

He loved it, running after you as he did before, one step behind you and so close to having his hands wrapped around your pretty neck. He wondered if you'd let him in again, to bite your neck and shoulder with red kisses, to take you apart in his arms, and to let him talk to you about the things he did - only this time, he wouldn't shy from sharing the gruesome stories he painted for the world to see.

He turned sharply at the corner, determined to cut you off before you left the walls of this weirdly shaped maze. He flashed his knife, the one he intended to gut you with, and jumped at you. You caught the glint of his knife too late, gasping for air when his body tackled you, rolling on the floor. You groaned in pain, cheek laying on the rough, dirt ground of the farm. Ghostface's body was warm and heavy, and strong, he straddled you and cooed.

"Missed ya, doll," he didn't have a distorted voice, he had no use for a voice box in the Entity's world. He couldn't be fought, he couldn't be stopped, and he couldn't be killed. "Didja miss me?"

His voice was familiar, too familiar to be normal. The drawl in his words and the soft, yet raspy tone of it reminded you of home: Pennsylvania. You knew he started there, killing off the people you knew before ultimately choosing you and failing to kill you. It was the cataclysmic event of your life, it festered fear and paranoia of everyone you knew and met.

His gloved - they were also warm - fingers played with your sides, moving upward to knead the flesh of your shoulders and pinch your nape. You flinched at every touch, even the softer, appreciative ones from the killer made you jump. He threaded through your locks, locking with the base of your hair and pulling your head back. You yelped at the harsh motion, feeling your hair being pulled from its seams with the force of his grip.

"I asked you a question, (Name)," he hissed in your ear, his mask kissing your cheek. "It's impolite to ignore your boyfriend."

You gasped, his use of words sent chills down your arched back. It couldn't be, could it? The thought of Ghostface and Jed being the same person made your heart drop. Tears blurred your sight, threatening to spill the second you connected the dots he placed for you.

Jed was a tease, but he was loving and caring, he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. Although he found interest in the murders since the start of your move, his words made the twisted truth into a dark fantasy that people got hooked on. That never stopped him from loving you, spending the night in your bed, comforting you when your paranoia and nightmares hit you so strongly that you crashed. He was the light in your life, a pillar of reassurance and comfort.

Unlike the reaper, renamed Ghostface by Jed, was a cold, calculated killer that found pleasure in blood. He murdered as he loved, mixing both in a perverted need. He stabbed with passion, he killed with devotion, and he drew stories up with fascination. Ghostface was the killer you ran from, he was your demon as you were his obsession.

"N-no- no-," you cried, nails digging into the ground. You felt frustrated, angry, and betrayed. Were you being lied to by the killer or was he telling the truth? You wanted to ignore him, block out his familiar voice and the words he kept singing to you. "You're not-"

"Not Jed, hmm?" you could hear the mocking pitch in his voice, his head tilted forward, letting his nose touch your cheek. "That's mean, doll. I thought we had something going on. Really, I really thought we had something, didn't you?"

"Shut up!"

Your enraged outburst earned a scoff from him, he crawled off your body and moved you to face him just as you were planning on pushing off the ground and running. He cocked his head left, straddling you once more with his hand mockingly waving his knife. The threat hung on a thin string, and Ghostface had an unpredictable pattern of instantaneous and planning acts. If he wished to gut you where you laid, he would, but if he wanted to watch you run, he'd let you go with a cackle echoing in the eternal sunset.

You wished you could move, hit him, dig your fingers into his clothes until you got to his skin and claw him bloody, you wanted to hurt him as he hurt you, but your hands were pinned beneath his knees.

"What? Can't run now, can ya?" he chuckled, voice light with perverted mirth. "You had me running all 'round since Pennsylvania. Home's real far now, isn't it?"

Your teary eyes glared at him, lips pulled in a toothy sneer, you hated him. (Did you really hate him? He was Jed, wasn't he? If his words were truthful then you felt torn in two.) Dirt smeared your face and your hair formed a messy halo around your head like the angel Ghostface spent years hunting.

His thumb brushed the smudged brown on the apple of your cheek, but you turned to bite him, teeth clicking when they didn't bite any skin. He clicked his tongue, quickly taking his hand away from your volatile mouth. He knew you were a biter, he remembered you biting into his shoulder when he got rough, begging for him to bite back. You were a little minx when you were comfortable.

Though you were adorable, denial wasn't something he appreciated from you, that glint of doubt in your eyes almost felt insulting. You were so attentive, eyes following his every movement, he liked the attention. You followed his hand, reaching for his mask, eyes widening when he tilted the ghostly face up and peered down at you with hazel hues.

You gaped like a fish out of water, shocked into silence. New tears brimmed the corners of your eyes, rolling down your temple in quiet submission. Your breath stuck in your throat, body trembling beneath him.

"Da-Danny?" you whispered, voice so quiet he almost missed your words. God, he loved the stutter in your words, a nervous little wreck he mended as Jed.

"Good eyes, but look closer, babe. I know you can do it," he lowered his head, breath mixing with your panicked ones. Panic looked good on you as fear and dread did, he wanted to eat you alive. "C'mon, (Name)."

"You-you're Jed too?"

He rolled his head back, chuckling at your meekness, you made yourself smaller, wanting to hide from him. The bubbly personality he grew up knowing turned into an introverted and paranoid survivor. He was drunk on the knowledge of the change he brought, changing you into the person you were, he broke your cocoon and clipped your beautiful wings. He wanted you to himself before, and now still.

"Bing! Bing! Congrats, babe! I knew you were smart, " he chuckled, fingers digging into your neck. He watched you gasp for air, struggling to free yourself from his hold. "Oh, don't worry, we'll see each other again."

He raised his knife over his head, the sharp edge gleaming gold with the setting sun. A crazed glint crossed his eyes, flashing darkly in his beautiful face (you always found Danny pretty, the dark-haired introvert was handsome, and Jed's hazel eyes reminded you of Danny. Your liking of Jed probably stemmed from your little crush on the dark boy from your neighborhood) when he finally swung his trusty weapon.

"We'll have eternity together, doll."

#ghostface x reader #ghostface dbd #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight #ghostface #ghostface x male reader #ghostface x female reader #dbd killer #dbd fanfic #dbd x reader #dbd x male reader #Dbd x female reader #x reader #yandere #yandere ghostface #yandere dbd #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight ghostface

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unnamed-blob · 2 months

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Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?

⇢ Pairing: Ghostface/Meg Thomas

⇢ Length: Oneshot

⇢ Synopsis: Ghostface hasn't had his hands on his darling survivor for many, many trials. The Entity isn't that cruel of a mistress to deny him for long of course.

⇢ A/N: (Dark) fluff?? In MY Ghostmeg works?? In my defense, I was sick and weak, they struck me when I had no means of defending myself- For those unaware, Slash and I have also agreed that Ghostface's ribbons have a mind of their own, and now that I have figured out how to slip that into my writing, expect it constantly.

Ghostface rose off of the splayed, mangled body of the last survivor, grimacing in disgust as he nudged it with his foot, flicking the blood off of his knife. He easily stepped over the corpse, wiping the remaining red liquid on the sleeve of his robe as the death toll rang out, the unmistakable sound of the sky parting for the Entity’s hungry grasp. He didn’t bother to look back, focused instead on striding to the now open exit gates.

His pace was too quick, too heavy, his posture too stiff and his dismissal of his favored weapon more violent than usual, all but slamming the knife into its sheath without a glance to ensure he wouldn’t stab himself doing so.

It’d been….. many, many, far too many trials since he’d seen his lovely little, red rabbit. Caught scent of her fear, snapped his teeth around her delicate skin, her wrists clasped in one hand, able to feel her racing pulse in her wrists, ran his fingers through her hair-

Ghostface growled, harshly yanking the mask off of his face as he shoved his hood down, digging his nails into his scalp as he ruffled his hair and tried to force the brimming edge threatening to boil over back. His ribbons lashed behind him, jerking in all directions in rapid succession.

The killer had begun to find it troublesome to properly conduct his trials when she failed to show each and every time. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d grown sloppy, slow, useless.

Oh no, no, of course not. Why it’d rather become quite the opposite. The survivors unlucky enough to be cast into trials with him must’ve done something to displease the Entity, to be dropped into an enclosed space when the bloodlust boiled within him. He’d lost nearly all his patience for his stealth specialized moves, preferring to go gunning for them like a bloodhound, the panicked survivors darting in all directions like brainless hares.

The anger within him had lent him harsher swings and quicker slashes, his knife finding the spots that were sure to cause maximum pain, for choked gasps and grunts and unbridled screams. To revel in the blood that would coat him nearly head to toe at the end of each trial.

Hooks were too kind of an end for the survivors, Ghostface would ensure a complete mori of each and every survivor. Able to feel the haze settle for just a moment while his knife would dart in and out of their soft flesh until it was too torn to take any more of his anger.

But reset deaths could only take him so far, could soothe the growing fire within him only so long before he’d snap. By the fog, if Meg didn’t show her cute little butt soon, he’d be sure to find the survivor camp himself and drag her out with his own two-

An abrupt, panicked scream from above shattered the killer out of his musings, snapping his head upwards to catch sight of a falling figure above him. By pure instincts, Ghostface lashed out to catch her, a female slamming right into his arms, scrambling to grab him around the neck as her body trembled from the fall.

The killer tilted his head down to catch a proper full sight of her, freezing stone still as a familiar, red headed runner was planted right in his arms, focused on vehemently muttering choice words to the disappearing Entity above.

His ribbons had stilled in his moment of surprise, and now excitedly regained their wagging, twirling to and fro, darting closer to gently brush against Meg’s form while the killer could only stare mutely at his favorite survivor, dropped right into his own arms.

Meg finally seemed to register that someone had caught her, turning to face him before she froze, body completely still as her wide, terrified eyes stared up at him. Her mouth dropped open slightly, a small, startled noise escaping as her grip unconsciously tightened around his neck.

(Like a rabbit, that freezes before the hunting dog, hoping it’s gaze will pass over it if it dares not breathe.)

Ghostface’s lips twitched, before stretching into a full blown, wolfish grin, drawing her closer tightly as the survivor finally snapped out of her shock, scrambling to break out of his hold.

“Hi baby,” he purred, easily holding her flailing figure in place to plant a kiss on her forehead, the redhead grimacing and shuddering in response.

“Did you miss me?” He cooed, drawing her closer, tighter against himself as Meg tried to shove at his chest, kicking into open air. He rubbed his cheek against her head, akin to an affectionate cat, while the survivor tried to claw at him with blunt nails.

“I missed youu. On my sweet girl~” Ghostface sighed silently in relief, feeling the tenseness ease from his figure, his ribbons idly entangling around her legs to keep her in place. Meg snapped to them too late, while Ghostface easily spun to a new direction, happily trotting off to a more private part of the woods instead of the killer campfire.

Oh he’d missed her, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else catch sight of her. Meg was the opposite of complacent in his grip, kicking and fighting and scratching (really, you’d think he was holding some feral cat instead of a survivor). Her gaze darted to his exposed neck, freezing as her thoughts flashed across her face, hands twitching as she battled within herself.

Ghostface fought to keep from bursting out laughing. How opportunistic, how cute. Not that he’d blame her of course, he’d given her his own fair share of marks to recall him by, some visible above the limits of her clothing, others more private. It’d be quite adorable for her to do the same for him now.

Oh well.

He gave her another bold, grinning peck on her face as Meg startled and renewed her fighting, squeezing her closer. The two of them had a lot of time they needed to make up for, and he excitedly relayed it to the horrified expression growing on the survivor’s face, his ribbons curling tighter around her in anticipation.

He’d have to find some way to thank the Entity afterwards, for dropping such a wonderful gift right into his arms.

#ghostmeg #dbd #male yandere #yandere ghostface #slasher x final girl #manhandling #dead by daylight #dbd writing #dbd fanfic #ghostface #dbd ghostface #meg thomas #slashers #slashers writing #slashers fanfic #killer x survivor #yandere scenarios

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pixestck · 4 months

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The Knight HCS; what would he be like in a relationship? ༊*·˚

Tarhos Kovács , NSFW hcs & SFW

┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

ღ; Tarhos really dosen’t feel the need to love or be in relationships. He doesn’t have the time nor does he really care. Most likely you would be a ‘pet’ or a ‘plaything’ for him, satisfying his needs and then being thrown away until he needs you again.

ღ; Really intoxicating, really. He’s like a drug to you, fucking you in just the right spots and always sweeting you to come back— or getting his guards to find you. (🫣)

ღ; if you realllyy wanna get him going, continue messing generators up, spamming lockers to alert him or just hog ride him. Don’t allow him to get hooks, block the other survivors from him. Once everyone’s been downed besides you, you should wish yourself luck. Tarhos is ruthless, he will not put up with intolerant brat behavior. If he needs to, he will call his guards to fuck you silly until you learn your lesson.

ღ; ceo of taming brats. Cannot change my mind. Even if you look at him funny he’ll slap you silly. Every moment he’s asserting his dominance over you and letting you know he could knock you over in one little tap if he wanted.

ღ; will bend you in all sorts of positions, reaaally tests your bodies limits. Fucks you into lockers, etc. bending you over used pallets and taking you from the front as one of his guards takes your behind.

ღ; Getting to close to finishing a gen? Cool. He destroys it and spawns either Alejandro, Durkos, or Sander to go after you while both him and one of his minions double team you into fear.

ღ; If you’ve been teasing him with generators all game, he’ll down you and fuck you right infront of the gen, preferably he loves to make you get it towards 98-99% until he fucks you and then breaks it just for funzies.

ღ; not the best at aftercare, (sorry luvies) he makes sure your okay before either leaving you to bleed out or hooking you;, if you’ve pissed him off badly that trial. He’s never really been in relationships long enough to know what aftercare is, he just knows sex and that’s it.

—- calmer stuff

ღ; unironically loves fruits, idk he looks like he would eat fruit on a daily basis ( 😔 )

ღ; probably smells like a mossy cemetery that’s been locked up for centuries because of ghosts haunting it and people never returning out of it, them foggy cemeteries.

ღ; Dosent know his abcs

#dead by daylight #dbd killer #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dbd x male reader #dbd x female Reader #female reader #male reader #gender nuetral reader #dbd #dbd knight #the knight #dbd the knight

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idanceinthegraveyard · 4 months

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HAVE A FUN READ AND ENJOU, SORRY FOR THE KISSING THEME AGAIN IM SO TIRED AND I DONT CARE IT'S SHOWTIME!

Yandere Trickster x gn reader

Warning; yandere and obssesive behavious, blood and again stabby stab stab.

tags; @sinnful-darling

"Sing for me Songbird."

The fog tinkered with your memories, leaving nothing behind but your name. It probably wanted to make sure you focused on the pain and suffering that will come with every trial you will be forced to participate in.

The realm was harsh, cold and dark. It was a torture, but even there you found something that kept you sane. It was a song, or at least a melody. It has been stuck in your head ever since you got here. Not even that damn entity knew how to get rid of it. Your stiff from cold fingers fumble with the generator. You were humming the oh so familiar tune. It kept you sane, helped you calm down and you didn’t even know the words or the whole song. Just the same old tune, humming it like a broken record. Oh if you only knew, that not only this tune but also your pretty raw screaming was a music to his ears. Every match he waited for you. Every single one. You have no idea how much disappointment he had to endure when you weren’t there. His muse, his songbird. He just can’t wait to hear you make those sweet sounds, or to see the sweet crimson seep out of your stab wounds. It was beautiful, just like you. His only problem was that you didn’t even pay attention to him outside of those trials. You wound him. You should be honored, he gives you his time of the day, why can’t he get yours? The Ormond was cold, frosty grass crunching under your feet. The freezing hurt your tongue and throat. Painful but refreshing even if there was a light scent of smoke. The horn of the generator pulled you out of your thoughts, white lights signaling it was done. You smiled proudly, ready to get up and head to another one. Rubbing your hands you tried to give them so warmth. No heartbeat, no rising adrenaline, no killer. You breath on your hands, a light puff of white could appear.

A scream echoed through the still air, your heart sank. With lips trembling you found yourself humming. You silently backed away from the generator.

Everything was going good, why now? Your heart started to race, anxiety creeping in. Head pounding with stress but you kept humming. Then a knife flew next to you, screaming loudly and you turned around to see the sinister smile of the famous trickster. You couldn’t run, this time fear made you stop dead in your tracks. “Oh my, a fan I see? How charming, how about an autograph hm?” He got closer, your face twisting in fear and confusion as you tried to force your body to move as far away as you physically could.

“Oh how lovely you hum, and the screams! My, the screams! I could say I’m obsessed.” Your back was met with one of the walls. Face twisted, in silent terror as the man got closer. You hated the trickster, he loved to torture you, you didn’t even want to know what he got planned for you this time. “Oh we are going to have so much fun this time, and don’t bother screaming. You are the last one.” He pinned you to the wall, his warm breath fanning across your face. He was so close, too close. You tried to shrink yourself, to be as small as you could to escape. His face drew in closer, the coldness of the air didn’t bother you anymore, in fact you swear the weather shifted and you felt hot and then his lips touched yours. The kiss felt long, passionate and sweet with a coppery after taste as he drew away.

“Now sing for me, Songbird” White pain blossomed in your stomach and you soon found out why you tasted copper. Trickster had stabbed you, slowly making the cut deeper.

You felt your warm blood drip from your mouth and you could help but grant his wish. You screamed with all the energy you had left.

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xx-1c1cl35-n-t34r5-xx · 9 days

Text

Tarhos Kovács grapples with the fact that he is a sodomite - Part 1

| Part 2 |

TW: canon-typical violence, homophobia, humiliation, drinking, X reader, transmasc reader, mention of other characters in game

AN: I have been writing this since FOREVER and its getting really long for what was meant to be a oneshot so here's part 1, part 2 will be out eventually. Smut will be in part 2.

5,936 words

Getting the killers to agree to your truce wasn’t hard - surprisingly easy actually - they couldn’t hurt you outside trials anyways; maybe getting to know each other wasn’t so bad. In fact, many of them liked it, getting to talk after trials. It made the meticulously tedious monotony of the Entity’s realm a bit more varied and the bonus that made everyone accept it, was the fact that it’d help your sanity, keeping you all from the void.

You walked up to their campfire - the killer's campfire - cautiously and carefully, making sure that your every step was quiet and deliberate. The ground was especially soft currently as it had just finished raining, aiding you.

But, still, you didn’t get too close before you were noticed by a couple, then all at once.

The Hillbilly was the first to notice you, raising his chainsaw up yet not turning it on. He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the log he stood on as he tried to vocalise something.

Poised.

Ready to strike.

He was tall and gangly while all muscular at the same time, and he cowered back. He didn’t puff up his chest to make himself look bigger but rather cowered and slouched - like he was a small calf trying to hide behind his mothers legs, yet being forced into the open - while he continued to mumble.

Quickly, the others noticed, drawing their weapons readily.

They stood too, and they stood tall.

They stood tall enough to look like trees from your eyes and with how your vision seemed to distort as your stomach seemed to go cold. They loomed over you like shadow monsters - like the Entity herself - with terrifying masks only illuminated slightly by the warm, comforting glow of the fire and the blue glow of the moonlight.

Only a few stayed seated, but they still gripped onto their weapons, eyes boring into yours, peaking at your soul. Even if you couldn’t see their eyes, you could feel them on you.

You couldn’t do anything but stand still, breathing rapid and arms raised. And you stayed in that showdown for a long while. All until the deathslinger spoke up, “What’re yew doin’ here?” he spoke, sharp and quick, all while not lowering that damned gun of his. It stared you right in the eyes through the long barrel. And it looked like it wanted to jump out at you and grab your chest and bite into it hard and rip every littletinybitofyouintotinylittlepiec-

“I ask’d yew a question’.” he reminded, “Be mighty rude ovya t’not answer’t”

You drew a breath in, shakily, then exhaled in uneven gaps. “I, uhm.” You started, shaking and stammering.

These were the killers you were used to chasing you every round.

Huntress, who’d split your ribcage open with a hatchet, a crack thudding inside you and radiating, with an intense and sharp pain.

Clown, who after a particularly nasty concoction had left your breathing ragged and rough and all scratchy in your throat for weeks - something not even your inhaler could fix.

Doctor, who’d shocked you so hard that you shook and thrashed and broke an arm. He didn’t even mori you after, no, only leaving you to slowly die out as you tried to crawl on muscle-dead and mushed legs to the hatch.

How come you had to deliver the message? Why couldn’t, oh I don’t know, Meg or Bill or Leon or someone else have done it? Why did they just have to choose you?

“I’m just a messenger,” you prefaced, “But… We survivors want a sort of umm,” You paused to think of a good word to describe this, “...truce…? outside of the trials that is.”

A couple of them lowered their weapons slightly, with some even sitting to look at you (mostly from the same eye level as you while standing) while you began to talk. Though, the Deathslinger still kept his gun cocked and aimed right at your chest - trigger finger twitching and itching almost.

“Look, we all know that after a certain point of, well, losing your marbles, the Entity just kinda picks you up and throws you in the void for all the rest of eternity - which is, you know, a pretty long time in my opinion. And, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather just kinda not go you know. And, see, uhm, I think most of us agree on that. Us survivors that is. So, since nothing can really be done outside trials, why don’t we uhm…”

You raised your head to look up at all of them. They were listening, if only to merely entertain the thought. But it was hard to keep talking when you wanted SO hard to just run away and never come back. It was times like this that you missed home - the smell of leftovers or a pot of instant noodles while you rush to do a project due today at 11:59. Missing hours awake covered in blankets bingeing the latest show. Things you’d never been too grateful for before. Comforts and luxuries that had been long forgotten in this day and age. Comforts and luxuries that you’d never even see again.

You breathed in again, pacing slightly now as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Look, we just think that if we could all maybe mingle and talk a bit, we could maintain our sanities a bit longer. And with that, hopefully find a way to at the very least not end up in the void…?” You paused, mentally cursing yourself for not being so confident. “I-it might be a lost cause, but it’s the only one that we have left. And we wanna test all the options possible…”

You looked at them, awaiting a response. Some whispered to each other, considering your offer, before the doctor spoke up, “And what makes you think it’ll work? Do you even have any forms of evidence?” he sighed condescendingly.

So, even outside of trials, he’s still a dick?

“Well, if you look at psychology, introducing variety in the daily life of a person can really help maintain a better quality of life - or in layman's terms - not going through the same thing every day helps you not go crazy.” you pointed out, trying to keep yourself from being too sassy back. He could just shock the ever living shit out of you again.

“Yes, but we are your killers. Wouldn’t that create more emotional turmoil and distress?” he retorted back, smirking, while he crossed his arms. He was mocking you, the prick.

Huffing, you replied, “If you wanna really discuss the psychology of whether or not this would work, accept the deal and invite me over to your realm and we can discuss there.” You were not about to debate this idiot right now. gvbt

Then, they all turned around, whispering around the campfire. You just stood there, awkwardly, awaiting.

It was strange, really, you thought to yourself; how beautiful the Entity could make such a wicked and cruel place. Shining, silver moonlight that trickled down onto the leaves, shining through in bright little ribbons. Grass that seemed so soft it looked like fur. It almost looked like a painting. It almost made you relax. It almost felt like you were back at home. But always almost, never fully. It felt like it was taunting you, jeering and laughing and cackling a cacophony of things in your head.

The deathslinger tapped you on your shoulder, scaring you out of your trance as you jumped up, heart leaping out of your chest for a moment. “We… well, we don’ see much of a problem with this arrangemen’, so we’re gonna agree. You can come to our realms outside the trials, just don’t cause too much of a ruckus, al’right?”

You extended your hand, “So, it’s a truce?”

He grabbed and shook firmly, “A truce.”

And that was it. Soon, you’d befriended a good couple of killers, even learning some of their real names. They weren’t all too different, truth be told. Some were even kind. And they suffered at the hands of the entity too.

So, through all of that, is where you stood now. At Dead Dawg Saloon, having a talk with them about how life was before this whole… ordeal. A lot of the survivors didn’t like the them all too much - you couldn’t blame them really - but you weren’t gonna miss an opportunity to learn how to live better in the trials. Which is what lead to where you were now: you, Deathslinger, or Caleb Quinn as you’d learn he was called, Frank and Susie from The Legion (edgelords, I tell you), Trickster (still yet to tell you his full name, though he’d told you his first name was Ji-Woon), and our lovely and ever elusive Mr Ghosty. He never told anyone anything about himself, though he was funny and charming and always lent a listening ear. You still didn’t trust him fully either way, but it was still nice.

Of course, you weren’t the only group in there nowadays. Though the survivors and killers didn’t mingle all too much still, they were at least fine with sharing living spaces. So, you could see Claudette and Meg all talking, with Charlotte and Huntress nearby and occasionally joining in. In a table just to your left, was the Knight and his loyal little group. And all the other needless mentions that you weren’t noticing that night. You were too drunk and focused on your own chatting to care fully either.

Your nose filled with the reek of cheap booze, but cheap booze helped drown out the pain and ache of bruises that were never allowed to form in the first place. Was it healthy? Of course not. None of it was. But it kept you going. And if you were nearly crying of laughter, why would you care?

You leaned over, clenching your abdomen in your head as tears streamed down your cheeks.

“No fucking way-” you tried to wheeze out.

Frank continued, chuckling heartily, “Yeah way - and, AND - even after the whole thing of trying to say she got chlamydia from a toilet seat, she tried to get Joey to sleep with her without a fucking condom. Like, what? We all know you have chlamydia, no one’s sticking their dick without protection willingly, what are you smoking?” He trailed off at the end, ending in laughs that he couldn’t control.

Ghosty perked up, “What, did your school just not teach sex ed?”

Susie added, “Well, it was about as effective as trying to teach a dog not to bark.”

Caleb took a swig of his drink - a dark tawny whiskey - before speaking, “Not t’sound like ‘n ol’man ‘ere,” He began, “But, you really do have it better in your times, y’know-”

Everyone groaned at this, while he continued, raising his hands to either shush everyone or in defence - you couldn’t tell, “In my time, if you had a town whore, or girl who liked a good fuck - I don’ know what terminology yer all usin’ nowadays - she was th’only person round who’d let ya, and if she had some sorta disease, there was no way of stoppin’ it spreadin’. Trust me. Ya avoided diseases by avoidin’ sex. No other way round it.”

“Ahh, explains why you’re always annoyed.” Ghosty piped in, before taking a sip of his beer, only just raising his mask to his mouth to drink.

Everyone chuckled a bit more; Caleb furrowed his brows before starting, “Ay well hang on now-”

Ji-Woon cut him off, “Would also explain why you made so many inventions - nothing else to do!” he exclaimed as everyone giggled a bit further.

“Well hang on! I had plenty of sex!” Caleb tried to defend himself, while everyone around continued to giggle.

You chimed in, “Yeah totally, you and the what, 50 people in your town totally found time to fuck. Not like you were all married off by like 16 or something, or you know, trying to not die from an infected paper cut.”

That earnt a good hearty chuckle from Caleb even this time, “Well, we did actually have someone die kinda like that.”

You roared in laughter, everyone at the table trying to not fall over, “No fucking way - I was exaggerating, no way!” He shook his head yes while you tried to stand up, continuing in disbelief, “No way! Nuh uh! You’re lyi-”

THUD.

You tripped on the edge of the table and hit the ground as you tried to stand, resulting in the whole table reeling from laughter. Ghosty extended a hand and lifted you up as you lied on the table, trying to not cry further from laughter, “I’m alright! I’m alright.” you wheezed out.

Caleb spoke up again, “See, we had this one kid who got prick’d by a thorn bush one time, an’ not long after it got infected. He refused to see the town doctor too, didn’ get it amputated, and ended up six feet under!”

Ji-Woon added, “Well, if my local doctor just chopped limbs off as treatment, I’d also avoid it.”

No one seemed to have anything to add as the conversation died down into a sort of comfortable silence. Everyone just sipped their drinks silently.

This wasn’t too uncommon - warm nights drinking with friends at the saloon. It was calm and welcoming - summery, shimmery and sympathetic lights made the place shine. It was one of the few places of some comfort here. One of the few realms that people actively chose to stay in. It was one of the few comfortable ones truth be told. You breathed in, inhaling the putrid scent of the alcohol once more as you pushed your now-empty glass away from you. The saloon was filled with the chatter of the night - howls of laughter, drunken cries, people stumbling from the intoxication. You burned the image into your mind, something to keep and stay comforted with. Moments like these were few and far between.

Everyone seemed relaxed finally. Maybe the booze was finally getting to you as your eyelids felt heavy and you seemed to be slowly losing control of yourself. And it’s worse when your cheeks feel hot. The annoying side effect of alcohol in a place with barely any men willing to fuck other men? Getting aggressively horny.

You leaned back in the chair, trying to rub your thighs together, something to alleviate your hot sex. It just made it worse. Oh no. And here you are surrounded by either perverts or homophobes. And the survivors - but most would be too tired to fuck.

And of course, ignoring the fact that you might just be the only gay in the village.

Getting up from your seat and leaning at the corner of the saloon, you looked around the bar, who’d be good to hit up?

You looked first at Ghosty - Christ no, if you did you’d never hear the end of it probably. Maybe Ji-Woon? No, he’s too stuck up - he’d probably laugh in your face and make fun of you. Frank?

He seems aggressively straight and you feel like he’d attack you for hitting on him. Maybe not a risk to take with his mood swings. Though, given how horny those three are, they might just agree. Still - not a risk you wanna take.

Caleb is sweet and all, but again the sneaking suspicion that he’s straight is buried in you. Not to mention you can’t help but see him as a father figure sorta, and you’re not that desperate to prove Freud right.

You look around the bar; Leon feels at least a little gay but after his recent trouble with the Doctor last trial you don’t think you’re gonna be letting him do much work.

And the thought enters your head - even if most of the men here were gay, how many gay men would even agree to fuck a trans guy?

You breathed in again, quietly excusing yourself before standing at the bar itself, just sitting on a stool.

Clown was a bit too creepy and perverted, so as sure as you were that he’d probably accept (especially if you mentioned still having a cunt), again you weren’t that desperate. Doctor was also too much of an idiot that made your skin itch and crawl at the mere thought of accepting.

Tarhos was from a time where you were executed for this - God no. But, even so, the thought tempted you. He was tall, strong (especially carrying all that armour and sword all the time) and had some long, luscious locks judging by the way it stuck out of his helmet. But, you’d rather not risk a claymore to the chest. So, he’s off the hook for now at least.

Maybe you had to lower your standards a bit.

You huffed, as Ghosty walked up. “Why the long face? Still tired from last trial?” you could tell he was smirking behind that mask. He was mocking you.

“Go fuck yourself Ghosty - you only got me through luck.” you playfully shoved him at the shoulder.

He hummed, “Sure, sure, you can believe whatever you want!” he joked.

Playing with the string of your hoodie you spoke, “I’m just… I don’t know. Kinda sad I guess. This place is shit you know?” you groaned out.

He leaned into you a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol - maybe you were just unreasonably horny - but god did he look good enough to eat right now. Maybe that’s just what you’d do later.

He sighed, “Yeah, I get that. Why now though? I mean - everyone’s here. No reason to be lonely right now.” he looked around, before starting again in a silly reporter voice, “What could ever, possibly, be the motive behind our shining stars depressive episode? Find out in exclusive interview!”

You giggled a little at his attempt to cheer you up. “Not that kind of lonely to be exact…” you sighed out, “I mean, I know where we are and how slim my chances are. God. I’m in a torture dimension and instead of even thinking about escape or anything like that I’m thinking about stupid shit like that.”

He paused a bit, whistling in thought, “I mean, I think I get what you mean - but why not just ask someone? Besides, you’re cute, I’m sure you won’t have that hard of a time,”

You contemplated telling him, and in maybe a bit of drunken stupidity, you blurted it all out, “I’m gay and trans ghosty. Especially in this fucking place what are the chances of me finding someone down? If they’re straight, they won’t like me because I don’t have tits plus I’m still a guy - as feminine as I am - and if they’re gay they won’t like me because I don’t even have a dick.”

He looked at you, looking away, then back at you, “Look, between you and me, considering where we are, I think most people won’t care. As straight as most of the guys here are I’m pretty sure if you just pulled up and offered… well you know, they wouldn’t exactly deny.” he leaned back comfortably, slumping slightly, “And, if none of that works out, I can always play wingman if you want. I’m a journalist after all, I’m used to having to do ads and all. Oh and, if none of that works - or you're not down to wait that long - my blade isn’t the only thing that swings both ways~”

Grabbing your hand, he led you back to sit down. This time everyone had moved back, starting some game of cards. “Chill out, just relax and mingle for now toots.”

The alcohol was really taking effect now. Your vision was all fuzzy and blurry, feeling all warm all over. And, what made it worse was your little… problem also got worse with all the alcohol.

You looked over to the table to see Michael, Caleb, Tarhos and Doctor all playing some game. Michael seemed to have stabbed his knife into the table to rest it (instead of resting it on the table like a normal person - what could you have come to expect) while everyone seemed to be holding some sort of cards in their hands.

“Last I heard, in the new day and age of many people homosexuality is legalised and widely accepted. Though - I don’t exactly have any sources.” The Doctor said.

Michael didn’t say anything. He never really did.

Tarhos scoffed at this, muttering, “Blasphemy. Utter sodomites.” his voice dripped with disgust and rage at this, “They should all be executed.”

Caleb tsk’d at this, “Well now, it ain’ like they’re hurtin’ anyone.”

And Doctor added, “Even some scientific research from before my time seemed to suggest it might be natural. Humans aren’t the only species of sodomites.”

Tarhos seemed not to care really, “It’s wrong - immoral and disgusting!”

Doctor spoke up, “Well, I did say I wasn’t sure of it - why don’t we ask the most modern person here?” he paused, turning behind and looking at you, “I believe that it’s you, no?”

Oh no. Not this, please. The single worst position to be in with a bunch of homophobic killers.

The Doctor just stared at you, pulling out the chair as an invitation to sit. So you did, just sitting, as they turned and asked, “Is it true?”

Carefully, you explained, “Well, yes. In most countries - that is! Uhm, most (if not all) actually proven scientific evidence seems to point to it being perfectly natural and normal. But, still many people and countries don't view it as such despite the evidence. Some people also do… discriminate against us. Hate crimes. Violence. All those things… but anywho, in some countries we can get married now! Same as any straight couple.”

Something you said had made them look at you - especially the more ‘old fashioned’ ones - with a sort of confused expression. Maybe it was just the shock over what you said? Did you say something wrong? Huh?? You just continued to stare blankly.

“Us? What do you mean us” Tarhos practically snarled out.

Oh. Oh shit. You knew drinking that much could never end well, and this is what you let slip? Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.

Rising from his seat in anger, with armour clanking and clanging and metallic talons digging into the softwood table, he spoke, voice with rage, “What did you mean by us.”

Stuttering and pushing your chair back slightly, you stammered to get words out. Everyone was watching this encounter - the saloon now silent except for the slight whistle of wind, cawing of crows or chittering of crickets.

You fell back on your chair with a loud thud.

Standing, you raised your hands defensively, ready to sprint.

He grabbed your chin, raising you up in the air, just slightly below his eye level as he spoke again, “Are you a fucking sodomite?” He barely even paused long enough to let you answer. It didn't even matter if he had, you couldn't breathe from how he was squeezing your throat. “ANSWER THE QUESTION.”

your hands clasped around his, scratching and digging.

Your lungs burnt up.

Your lungs were pools of hot acid that scratched everything in their wake.

You grabbed and gripped at his arms. The very ones locking you in place.

Your nails tried to scratch against the smooth metal - to no avail.

They didn’t budge one bit.

Your vision started to get even blurrier.

Tears were welling up in your eyes.

You tried to draw in shaky breaths, but you were stopped. Your mouth hung open.

You couldn’t even make any noise.

Your vision went black at the sides.

Your legs - of which you didn’t even notice were doing so in the first place - suddenly stopped thrashing about.

Your arms were slowly,

Slowly,

Oh so slowly,

Moving slower,

and slower.

Until, they just barely dropped at your sides.

Your eyes nearly shut.

You couldn’t hear a single thing.

You couldn’t even feel the pain in your lungs any longer.

Numb.

With a strange ringing, and slowly fluttering eyes, you tried to get up. Someone was holding you up, checking your pulse on your neck. He was shouting something at someone else. The black fog in your vision slowly cleared, like the Entity's fog clearing away from your vision after a Mori.

You rolled onto your hands and knees as you violently coughed and spluttered. Your throat burned and ached. You pulled a wheezy breath in, as it almost whistled going in past your throat. It was loud.

Leon. Leon was holding you up, patting you on the back. You were now seeing clearer, as you heard shouting.

You were about to turn around to see, but he stopped you. “Hey, hey, look here. Follow my finger.” He moved it left and right, up and down. Probably checking your eyesight. You followed.

“I’m,” you broke into a coughing fit, with a hoarse voice, “I’m fine Leon. W-what’s going on?” You could hear shouting from multiple people. Turning around, you saw Frank and Caleb both shouting at the Knight. Frank was wild, like he was trying to fight him himself. Caleb was more like a stern father scolding an unruly child.

Getting up, you went to leave. Tonight's done.

Clanking and a few ‘come back here!’s followed suit behind you. You ignored it. You just wanted to go home. It was meant to be a good night. It almost was. But because of your big mouth you let some stuff slip and now look at what you got yourself into.

A cold, metal hand gripped the side of your upper arm, “You still haven't answered my question,”

Tears began to stream down your face; it was almost an amazing night. You ruin everything. Of course you do.

You were used to depression and deprecating thoughts. You were used to anger issues that meant you lashed out at yourself. And others. But you weren't used to losing control like this and not being scared - even through anger.

Through shaky, clogged and tear laden breaths you spoke, “Does it even matter what I say? You know the answer,” whipping your head around and tearing yourself out of his grasp you answered, “And still, does it really fucking matter? Not the first thing I'd be disgusted of when comparing a pillager of villages and towns to just a guy who, oh I don't know, sometimes likes fucking other men. In no way would I ever consider myself as disgusting as you. And, even though both of us may be cursed to eternal damnation - at least I can say my only sin was love.”

You couldn't remember much after that from the night. All you knew is that your pillow seemed like it'd dried from something and that your eyes seemed all puffy.

Oh god you cried all night didn't you?

You felt like shit though, truth be told. Nothing to remind you of years worth of neglected, bottled up and tossed-out-the-window trauma like that, huh.

Getting up, you started to walk. Daylight was gone by now, so you'd have to go straight into trial.

You started working on the first gen. Your fingers ached from gripping the wires so hard. Blurry, puffy eyes made it even harder to align the wiring together - crackles of electricity hit your fingers, making them painfully jerk away on instinct. Even when the wires touched, it was like they didn’t even want to start up the gen.

It had been how long now? You couldn’t tell anymore. You practically played these trials on autopilot at this point. It was all a blur. Your head ached and pounded in your skull like it’d been caved in by a hammer.

Through the dull blur of passing thoughts and trying to forget the ache in your skull (and your heart), the engine roared to life. It nearly scared you, but it was there, and you had never been so happy.

All until you saw Dwight running for his life behind you, with the telltale sign of clanking, thundering steps following on behind him. You had to be kidding right now,right? But oh no, of course it had to be him in a trial with you. Just to infuriate you - the spider god did feed off emotion.

Hiding behind the rough, scratchy bark of the tree near the gen, you saw Dwight run.

One foot behind the other, nearly flying through the air, dashing to escape.

You could hear your heart racing in your chest. Almost to the same rhythm as his footsteps.

It wasn’t enough though, was it?

Even through the Knights heavy armour, he ran too fast. Dwight even looped him just right - it still wasn’t enough.

The sword drove right through him, impaling him to the ground. Crimson dripped down the sword in oily, ruby ribbons that shone in the moonlight. His glasses fell to the ground as his head drooped down. He didn’t even get to scream.

He wasn’t even laid down on the ground, but suspended diagonally by the sword.

You could smell it. The iron that stained the air.

The flashlight in his hand rolled away, flickering on and off.

And it flickered right on you before dying.

You just looked at the flashlight briefly, only seeing the red fingerprints.

Looking up slowly, you saw the Knight turn his gaze to you.

You froze.

He straightened up.

With a crack of what you were sure was bone, he pulled the sword out of Dwight.

You wanted to run. You did. But for the first time in forever, your feet were stuck to the ground.

His weren’t though. His were moving closer to you. Way too fast for your liking.

Still, you didn’t move. Not an inch. Your stomach turned to ice as your mouth hung open. You could barely breath.

“You think us comparable.” He spoke in a completely calm tone. Almost like the kind you would at a doctor's office or a library. Not the one you would here.

His voice echoed and bounced in his helmet, making his words reverberate and sound like a cacophony of voices - almost like a heavenly choir that was about to curse you to your damnation. To smite you down.

You regretted so much now. The weight of your past actions was sinking in and they sunk like stones sunk you to the bottom of a river. You had goosebumps in your whole body. They pricked at your clothes and skin and everything really.

You were about to apologise, on your hands and knees with a bowed head even if you had to. Tears pricked at your eyes again.

He threw his sword to the ground.

He was going to make this last.

You finally stepped away, tears flowing down your cheeks as you choked out sobs. “Please no, god no, I’m so sorry…” and a flurry of apology and plea and grovel fell from your lips. Still not enough.

He didn’t stop walking.

You turned around, breaking into a sprint as you tried to breath through sobs. Your lungs burned. Your throat burned. Everything burned up painfully. Even your legs burned as your muscles ached.

He swiped at your side, trying to grab your arm. He got uncomfortably close too, as you could feel the wind from the movement. Yet, perhaps through sheer luck alone, as he swiped and clawed at you, he missed. And you took that chance to run.

And just by sheer luck you had to trip. Your hands took the brunt of the fall, scratching as a loose stone dug into it. You couldn’t even feel it really - adrenaline pumped itself through your veins like liquid courage, or perhaps idiocy - only with the way it was lodged in there and stayed stuck you could only feel the blood dripping down your hand, falling from your fingers. No pain struck you.

Next in the fall came the rest of your body, though that was mostly quick. Falling on and subsequently scraping your knees, you quickly got up.

Your hands nearly grabbed onto the soft, wet and squelchy dirt as you did.

With a sharp turn, you started trying to loop him.

You were doing it well too.

You could feel it, maybe you’d get to escape.

It was so close, within maybe a finger's reach.

And right as you lept to turn a corner on a tree, right there and then, you felt it.

Something stabbed right into the fabric of the hoodie you wore, pinning you to the ground. You looked at your shoulder in defeat - held in place by a round, nearly rotten, wooden pike. It had barely missed your actual shoulder, and pressed into you. How you were this lucky you couldn’t tell, maybe it had snagged on the fabric as it fell, no tore, through the air.

Your heart was already pounding in your chest, but it seemed to get louder and louder.

At this point, you simply slumped forwards onto your knees, leaning into the pike. What else was there to do? He was filled with rage against you. He hated you.

He had you trapped.

You heard the echo-y clanks circling behind you while your heart pounded and rung in your ears.

He was in front of you now.

You didn’t even look up from the ground, keeping your head bowed.

You heard him unsheathe the sword.

You heard him pull the sword up - the unmistakable sound of rustling leather and chainmail rustling told you so.

You heard the wind along the sword as it was brought down.

This was it.

End trial.

You squeezed your eyes shut and awaited the pain carefully, tears pricking at the sides.

Your entire body was tense.

It never came.

The stabbing, throbbing sensation followed by suddenly opening your eyes outside of the area never came.

You opened your eyes slowly, looking to both sides.

On your right, the wooden pike holding you still. But to your left? That was a surprise.

The knight’s sword - stabbed right into the ground. It shone beautifully in the moonlight. The same metal that had killed so many; hideousness hidden behind a veil of beauty. The cursed thing still had Dwight’s blood dripping down it too.

Snapping you out of your little trance came a cold and smooth hand on your chin, tilting your gaze up.

You looked at him, his glittery helmet with the cordons of hair streaking down like soft rivers. The moon was right behind him like a kind of fucked up halo. He looked like he could almost be kind.

Almost.

His deep voice cut through the air, “How pitiful,” He said in mock sympathy, “You should be smited, stamped out, erased from everything. Shame I cannot continue the punishment you deserve.”

He wiped the tears that you hadn’t even noticed started dripping down your cheeks. He was deriding you. He then let go of your chin and pulled out the pike from your hoodie.

“Kneel.”

He commanded.

What? Kneel? You looked up at him in confusion.

“Was I not clear enough? Kneel,” “Now.”

#not a request #x reader #smut #eventual smut #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd killer #dead by daylight x reader #dead by deadlight #dbd x reader #dbd x male reader #ftm reader #transmasc reader #the knight dbd #tarhos kovács x reader #tarhos kovács

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babiebom · 9 months

Text

DBD Male Killers Sexuality Headcanons

A/N: Finally time for the males. Remember this is just for fun and no harm is meant. Also has no impact on how I write the characters or like if I would not ship them with certain people ykwis

TW:Talks of sex and sexuality. Cursing

Wc: Maybe 3+ for each killer

The Knight/Tarhos Kovács

Straight

Just gives off straighty vibes

The Mastermind/Alber Wesker

Straight

But would not mind sleeping with absolutely anyone

I mean as long as they're up to his standards

The Ghostface/ Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson

Gives of disaster bisexual vibes

Is honestly a slut

The Legion/Joey

Straight

Will fall for a man so maybe heterosexual and bi romantic?

The Legion/Frank

Straight

Closet feelings for men will never admit it

The Wraith/Phillip Ojomo

Pan

He just seems like gender identity does not matter to him

The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka

Straight

Also probably homophobic

The Nemesis

???? No?????

Isn't he like a monster thing that only is like for killing?

Will fuck anything tho

The Trapper/Evan Macmillan

Is straight

According to my friends he gives off incel vibes

The Clown/Jeffrey Hawk

Straight

Is also ugly(this is legally his identity idc)

The Shape/Michael Myers

Bi men leaning

Aromantic

The Demagorgon

He is a puppy no sexuality for him

Does fall in love with everyone tho

Puppy vibes

The Dredge

Absolutely not????

Does he even have a pebnis?

The Blight/Talbot Grimes

Gay

He just seems like a gay scientist idk

The Doctor/Herman Carter

Straight

Also terrifying

The Twins/Victor Deshayes

Is he legally allowed to have a sexuality

Like isn't he a feral baby?

He's like not allowed

The Hillbilly/Max Thompson Jr

Gay

Country boy I love you vibes

The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer

Straight

Probably doesn't even know anything else is possible

The Deathslinger/ Caleb Quinn

Straight

Not as cool as Maxie

The Executioner/Pyramid Head

He knows no sexuality only torment

Also will fuck anything

The Trickster/Jiwoon Hak

He just wants attention

The Cenobite/Elliot Spencer

Pan

Also polyamorous? Polygamy?

One of those

Or both idk

#dead by daylight headcanons #dead by daylight killer #dead by daylight shitpost #dead by daylight #dead by daylight male killers #dbd #dbd shitpost #dbd headcanons #dbd killer #dbd male killers #headcanons #i dont remember why we did this

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theres-a-body-here · 4 months

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Creep!reader: "I'm afraid I can't help you sheep"

Meg: "WHAT?!"

Creep!reader: "Something like that requires massive arcane power and mastery to be even be able to pierce through the fog. Also... the Entity may or may not have rather compromising photos of me and Ghostface, so I'd rather not get involved"

Dwight: "S-She may or may not have pictures of you two in full fursuits? Cuz I may or may not have been there"

Creep!reader: "Actually, we may or may not have been covered in baby oil"

Jake, sighing heavily: "Ugh...well I guess the Entity wins"

Élodie: "..."

Élodie: "can we see the pictur—"

Creep!reader: "Get the hell out of my realm"

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apollodarling-writes · 5 months

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yan! dbd ghostface (danny johnson) headcanons

cws: yandere themes, danny is a perv, non-consensual picture taking, stalking obv, slight nsfw themes but danny is just a freak, danny is a sadist, gore, danny makes out with your wounds, obsessive! danny, possessive! danny,

— yan! ghostface whose eye you catch in your first trial. you who are wide eyed, disoriented, and hyper-aware of your surroundings make easy prey.

— yan! ghostface who stalks you for awhile before approaching you, using your disbelief and naivety against you.

— yan! ghostface who explains your situation, portraying himself as a fellow survivor and guides you through the motions of the match before pressing his blade to your throat.

— yan! ghostface who smirks beneath his mask, watching as your eyes widen with fear and betrayal. he feels himself become aroused as your pretty optics glisten with tears, groaning as you beg for him to let you go.

— yan! ghostface who is stunned by a flashlight, feeling you wriggle free from his grip and sprint off like a frightened bunny.

— yan! ghostface who you are wary of in each match. he singles you out and taunts you, describing each horrific thing he’ll do to you once he gets his hands on you, finding that this little obsession of his is growing by the day.

— yan! ghostface who begins thinking about you even outside of trials. it started as wondering what he would do to you next, turning into lustful daydreams and palming himself at the thought of you.

— yan! ghostface who snaps polaroids of you while you do mundane things. assembling a medkit or toolbox, finding materials for offerings, talking to your fellow survivors…

— yan! ghostface who loathes the sight of you smiling at the others in the survivor camp. you belong to him. that smile of yours is reserved for him. your laugh is reserved for him.

— yan! ghostface who slowly feels those lustful feelings of his grow into something deeper. he finds himself thinking less and less about ways to kill you, and more about ways he could make you smile.

— yan! ghostface who, in your next trial with him, brings you the body of each survivor, dropping it in front of you much like a cat would gift its owner a dead mouse.

— yan! ghostface who corners you, sitting on your stomach and wrapping his fingers around your throat. he swiftly snaps a polaroid of this beautiful sight, crazed ramblings about how you’ve caught his attention leaving his lips.

— yan! ghostface who is amused at how quickly you’ve gained his interest, his favorite pastimes stalking you and leaving just enough of a trace for you to know he was there.

— yan! ghostface who finds it incredibly romantic to hold your hand while you bleed out beneath him, his mask lifted to show off the frenzied look in his eyes, blood dripping from his chin and onto your paling features.

— yan! ghostface who looooves to makeout with your stab wounds. he’s always sure to leave you for last, finding motivation in the fact that if he rids the trial of all other survivors, he can spend as much time with you as he pleases.

— yan! ghostface who coos at you as you beg for him to let you go… or to just end it already. a frown tugging at his lips as he feels his heart pang with the slightest of remorse. he quickly covers it up with a mocking sneer, telling you that you should be proud to bear his love in such a way. no one’s ever had it but you.

— yan! ghostface who singles out each person you talk to in their next trial with him, mercilessly slaughtering them as he tells them to stay the fuck away from you.

— yan! ghostface who somehow convinces the entity to let you spend some time with him on a random day, designating it as your new birthday. he’ll watch with interest as your shaky fingers grip the rusted fork, shoving the mediocre cake down your throat. he’s never seen a better sight.

— yan! ghostface who loooves everything about you <33

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lukabitch · 1 year

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Hello! I'm here to bring more fluffiness!

How about Wesker with an boyfriend that is also a scientist and he is just super interested in Wesker's work regarding the viruses that he ahs created/mutated, and he just loves hearing Wesker talk about anything regarding his work.

–💀 anon

Not the reader being Wesker’s lil skrunkly guy. This is literally just adorable like akshaja. Thank you so much for the request Skully!

Cw: Mentions of experimentation other then that just fluff.

Wesker is head over heels for you. I mean how could he not be.

You actually listen to his hour long lectures about his work and you’ll ask questions.

He especially loved it when you would walk up to him while in the lab and asked if you could help.

Does he need your help? No but he most certainly didn’t want to undermined your intelligence.

He’ll give you somethings to work on. You know it’s not especially important but you still make sure it’s perfect.

He loves it when you just sit there in amazement. It gives him an ego boost.

You would write down note while he would give his break downs.

Eventually he would take some of your ideas for a mutation.

You were a very happy boyfriend when he did this.

“Honey! I wanna look at the Uroboros!” “Babe we’re at a restaurant-“

Don’t worry he will pull them out when at home.

You draw them in a little sketch book. He really likes the way you draw his arm.

He loved the way you would gently grab his wrist and moved his arm.

It was to study the Uroboros of course but still it was nice.

You would giggle when the Uroboros would crawl up your hand.

Sometimes you would rant about how amazing Wesker’s ideas were.

He would just smile and let you feed his ego.

He loves his scientist boyfriend so much. :)

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burstinn · 5 months

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Hollly shit it is impossible to find people who don't exclusively write for women and are in the same fandoms as me 😭 if you'd like to could you write nsfw for herman carter (the doctor) and a ftm reader (who hasnt had surgery + wears a binder)? A short fic or headcanons anything that you feel like writing, if the former then maybe having a quicky during a trial after not meeting for ages? I'd so literally request getting head from him if he didn't have a fucking dentist tool on his mouth, love him regardless though lol, have a good day!!

I'm bouta cry.

I'm still working on this and I'm procrastinating

Hope your patient verrrry veeeryyy VEEERRRRY patient.

Love you broo

#dbd killer #dbd x male reader #dbd #dead by daylight x male reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x gn! reader #herman carter #herman carter x reader #herman carter x male reader

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