#tarhos kovacs x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rootsofdread · 3 months

Note

May I request some headcanons for The Knight, The Blight, and The Wraith with a twitchy boyfriend who has trouble staying still? Sometimes I'll be sitting still and my head will jerk to the side randomly or one of my legs will kick out and it drives me insane to the point I have trouble falling asleep sometimes :(

i have a similar problem! mine get soo bad when i'm tired lol. we're in this together anon ✊

Philip Ojomo / The Wraith:

Philip tends to keep a close eye on you. He worries about you -- even if you've told him not to be -- and fears you may hurt yourself accidentally, so he just wants to make sure you're okay when he knows that your twitching is acting up. If you're standing together he'll put his hand on your shoulder or around your back, but otherwise, he frequently checks in on you.

In a really weird kind of way, he finds your twitching...comforting? It lets him know you're still with him. When the two of you are close in any way, like when you're laying together or he's holding your hand, and he feels you jerk around, he pulls you closer. He would prefer it didn't happen, for your sake, but he appreciates knowing you aren't suddenly gone.

And he's certainly no stranger to having problems sleeping, being haunted by nightmares, himself; so he knows how you feel, to some extent. When he feels you jerk around in bed, he'll immediately wrap his arms around you and lean his head into your back or chest. He doesn't really know how to help you, because he doesn't know how to help himself, but he hopes that helps...at least a little.

Talbot Grimes / The Blight:

Talbot has always loved having you around since he met you; he finally has someone more like him around the fog. It really does something to his old, shriveled up heart seeing you do the exact same thing he does. Granted, his are more frequent; it still has always made him happy.

And he always tries to make this clear to you. Even before you were together, he'd frequently hobble over to you just to sit with you. He's not much of a talker, so he usually conveys his thoughts through gestures or tapping his cane. He didn't think you understood for a while, but was delighted when he realized you did.

When you're having problems sleeping, he'll always offer you some sort of tonic or tincture to relax you and help you sleep. If you don't want any, that's fine, he'll let you cuddle up and rest your head on his chest, so that he can rub your back while he reads quietly beside you.

Tarhos Kovács / The Knight:

Tarhos was always interested in you from the moment he saw you. He's never seen someone do...that, before. He had long assumed you were cursed for your hubris, once upon a time, or something similar. Yet, you seemed to be taking it quite well. Resolve is one of his favorite qualities in a person.

He's always around to make sure nobody gives you a hard time for something out of your control -- something so inconsequential, at that. The last thing he wants is for you to feel embarrassed about it. If anyone so much as snickers, they will meet his blade.

When you're frustrated by not being able to sleep, he tells you that fire is important, but it will be better spent elsewhere. He settles you back down, tucks you in, and will usually either read to you or recount stories from his time as a true knight for you. By this point, you've probably heard all of them, but he still hopes they soothe you.

#inbox #gender neutral reader #survivor reader #killer reader #philip ojomo #talbot grimes #tarhos kovacs #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #philip ojomo x reader #the wraith x reader #talbot grimes x reader #the blight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #the knight x reader

64 notes · View notes

gothy-froggy · 8 months

Text

Won’t you Join me?

Tarhos Kovács x noble!Fem!reader

I see there is yet another drought for Tarhos. Fear not my beloveds! I am here to save you for the time being.

Warnings: fluff, reader is a sweetheart, Tarhos being confused and awkward, historically inaccurate for the sake of a cute fic, not proofread, short one shot

Summary: There is a small ball once again and Tarhos witnesses another. Bored and irritated by most noble snobs, he stands outside. A noblewoman talks to him to his surprise. Is this maybe a possible future blooming between the two?

——————————-

“Toscano! I am pleased to see that you could come.” The older woman greeted Vittorio as he and personal knight walked inside. It was always the same. Many men and woman in fancy big outfits. Most likely costing a fortune for each clothing piece.

“And you have brought..a friend.” The older noblewoman said, her judgmental tone seeping through her words. Toscano introduced Tarhos for him.

“Welcome, Sir knight.” A younger noblewoman greeted him with a small curtsy. Tarhos stared at her with no reply. How odd. She actually decided to notice him? The older woman gave the noblewoman a disappointing look before guiding Vittorio around for a tour.

Tarhos knew it was his time to leave and stand outside. Or at least under his rules. Too many people stare and raise a hand to another’s ear to gossip and judge. He walked out, standing outside. He hated how privileged these people were. He stared at the view in front of him. He wondered what the piece of freedom that nobles had really feels like. He desired it. No, he deserves it, not these foolish, ungrateful, slimy-

“Are you all right?”

Tarhos’ internal ramble came to an end. He sharply turned to see the same noblewoman who greeted him. He just stared intensely at her through his helmet. Her hand slipped away from the building to the side of her formal dress as she walked up to him.

“You shouldn’t wait out here.” Her voice was in a softer than how it was inside. More quieter, fitting for a conversation between two people. She lightly tilted her head with a small smile on her face.

“Do you often wait outside for him?”

“I prefer it.” He grumbled out loud enough for her to hear.

“Why?” She questioned the armored man, inching closer. Tarhos kept his gaze ahead.

“They judge with the privilege they possess.” He hesitated to answer. She was a noble herself. She lightly sighed through her nose.

“I never understood that. I apologize, on behalf of them-”

“Don’t.”

Tarhos cut her off. He looked down at her, his hair slightly spilling out.

“You aren’t like the others.”

A smile crept onto her face as she glanced down, a small portion of shyness kicking in from his words.

“Tarhos, was it? How did you manage to work under Toscano?” She stood next to him and raised her hand. Tarhos quickly caught on, holding his arm out and letting her hands rest on his forearm. They began walking around the building, following the torches.

—————————-

She lightly laughed, telling her own stories to Tarhos. Tarhos smiled ever so lightly under his helmet. His head tilted to the side to show that he’s listening to her stories and words.

“I have to say, I have been enjoying your presence, Kovács.” She lightly giggled after her words. Her silly story still having an affect on her. Tarhos eventually gave his full attention to her as she slowed down from walking. She stared up at him.

“May I be selfish and ask to see your face?” She whispered. Tarhos couldn’t understand why, but she had allured him. Possible bewitched him. Tarhos slowly took his helmet off, keeping it under his arm. She raised her hands up as Tarhos bent down more towards her level. Her hands brushing over his jawline, sending a shiver down Tarhos’ spine. Her finger tracing over his scars.

“I think…” She started, pausing while observing all the facial features again.

“You’re beautiful.” She finished her abandoned sentence. Tarhos let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes. A warm woman’s touch could weaken anyone. Apparently even Tarhos. She kept her hands on both sides of his face, her thumbs lightly running across his skin. She a bright smile.

“Won’t you join me?”

Tarhos opened his eyes and stared into hers. He didn’t answer her. She stepped a bit closer.

“Come, let’s have a dance.” She tried to convince the knight. He glanced back at the building, hearing the faint music.

“It is best that I do not.” He declined.

“Please?” She begged. Tarhos looked at her for a few seconds. He took a step back, placing his helmet back on. His heart ached seeing the joy leave her expression.

“Another time, my lady.” He rejected, his tone softening letting her down this time.

“If you change your mind, I will be inside, Kovács.” She lightly lifted her dress as she began walking back.

“Tarhos.”

She stopped, turning back around to look at him.

“Goodnight, Tarhos.” She gave him another small curtsy before heading back inside.

Tarhos watched her leave. He was conflicted. Originally, he thought that all nobles were maggots, but she has proved him wrong. She made him feel something different. Something he had never felt before.

Time flew by as he was in his thoughts.

“Tarhos.” A familiar voice called out. Vittorio stood a few feet away from him with the stern face he always carried. His cool tone making it.

“We’re leaving.” Tarhos walked over to Vittorio, heading back into the carriage. The ride back home, Tarhos was lost in his own little world. Once he has his money and he buys his three friends’ freedom, he is coming back to that noblewoman.

She was so different. She treated him like he was someone. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed her company, just her alone. And he wanted more. He now swore to come back and marry the kind woman. As she is too soft to be alone in this cruel world. She was going to be his, as his heart is already hers.

—————————-

*bonus*

The screams from others run around to desperately escape filled the air between the walls. The noblewoman was dragged away by a maiden.

“This way my lady!” She whispered yelled, pulling her by the hand while sneaking down the steps. The maid screamed, getting pulled away by a man with a red scarf.

“Let me go!” The noblewoman screeched as a manic laugh met her ears.

“We can’t do that now, can we? Sir wants you, my lady.” The man cackled, saying his words in a mocking tone. The man carried the woman outside, pushing her against something hard. It was like armor. She looked up, seeing a familiar armored man with hair spilling out the helmet.

“…Tarhos?”

#fan fic writing #tarhos kovács #dbd #dead by daylight #dead by deadlight #alejandro santiago #dbd the knight #dead by daylight x reader #durkos malecek #tarhos kovács x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #dbd the knight x reader #the knight x reader #the knight #knight x noblewoman #knight x noble #x reader

142 notes · View notes

bubbasbubblebutt · 1 year

Text

Old ass work doodles but Tarhos Kovacs my beloved

#your honor hes my emotional support white boy #dbd #dead by daylight #my art #art #dead by daylight fanart #tarhos kovacs #the knight dbd #tarhos dbd #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács #HES SO FINE

315 notes · View notes

r3dkn0ts · 10 months

Note

totally not sending this to myself as an example of a request cough cough

Could I get some headcanons for The Deathslinger, The Blight, and The Knight with a boyfriend that has chronic fatigue syndrome and zones out frequently?

Why yes I'll fill your request, kind anon! insert obama giving himself a medal meme here

The Deathslinger / Caleb Quinn - Having had a bad knee for most of his life, Caleb can definitely appreciate having someone he can relax and snuggle with when outside of trials. He may not look it, but he's really a softie for physical affection. - If you happened to be a survivor in a trial with him and you, for instance, passed out while repairing a generator, he probably wouldn't have the guts to sacrifice you. You just look too cute when you're sleeping. Yes, even if you drool or snore. - On that note, he has an odd fascination with watching you sleep. The way your chest slowly rises and falls and your face wears such a peaceful expression makes his heart flutter. What's left of it, that is. - The first time you pass out on him, he'll certainly be a bit alarmed. "Sugar, 're you alright?", would be the first words out of his mouth once he managed to shake you awake, much to your tired mind's dismay.

The Blight / Talbot Grimes - Talbot certainly had his fair share of sleepless nights as a human alchemist, obsessing over perfecting a recipe until his mind ran out of fuel. He can definitely relate in some way to your struggles. - No matter how much you urge him to lay down with you, he'll refuse every time simply due to the fact that he can't function without constantly pumping himself full of pustula serum. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he truly does wish he could relax. He just can't. - He constantly compares his flaws to yours when his mind isn't racing with horrific ramblings or going through his old alchemical recipes. How could you ever love him when you're so perfect comparatively? He's a literal monster, and yet you think you're undesirable just because you're tired most of the time? It's ridiculous.

The Knight / Tarhos Kovács - Back in Tarhos' time, there was no way you could excuse yourself from duties because you were too tired. You either did as you were told by your commander, or you were severely punished. No excuses. - Thankfully, Tarhos does not see you in that light. He tries his best to understand you when you try to explain that your brain eventually drains all its energy like a candle burnt to the very bottom, but his lack of English skills certainly doesn't help matters. - If you ever asked him to lay with you somewhere, he'd definitely get a bit clammy before you reiterated what you meant in clearer terms. Tarhos had never been in a romantic or sexual relationship during his life outside of the fog, so it was a bit jarring to hear you say such a thing to him. He would definitely have taken your offer, though.

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagines #the deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn x reader #the blight x reader #talbot grimes x reader #the knight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #male reader #lgbt reader #fluff

85 notes · View notes

aceviscontiswife · 10 months

Note

May I request some fluffy ( and possibly smutty ) headcanons for The Doctor, The Knight, and The Deathslinger with a clingy, touch-starved ( FtM ) boyfriend? Like, he's the kind of guy that gets blushy and riled up just from holding hands or getting a kiss on the forehead totally not just describing myself nuh uh

Killers with a FtM! Clingy/touch-starved reader

So this is more on the fluff side (Tarhos specifically), but I did try to add a bit of spice! Hope you enjoy! if I got anything wrong please correct me, this is my first time writing for a trans reader so if I made a mistake I apologize!!

Warnings: Some suggestiveness (Doctor and Deathslinger), Knight is a bit confused but tries his best to understand, mentions of insensitive questions (Deathslinger) but nothing is outright said.

• Herman is all for it! He’s quite clingy as well, so you’ll usually always have his arm wrapped around your waist, his hand holding yours—anything Herman can do to remind you that you’re his. The fact that you’re touch-starved only makes Herman want to hold you even more.

• Herman is quick to learn your body; each sensitive spot, where you liked to be touched—Herman knows it all. While he might be a crazed ‘doctor’, he’s surprisingly respecting of you and your boundaries.

• Oh, and when he notices just what his acts of affection do to you, you best believe Herman is only going to do them more. Now, however, he’ll send small shockwaves throughout your body. Not enough to hurt you, of course, but you could definitely feel them. Herman will send little ripples of electricity running through you, even with the slightest caress of his fingers. He loves seeing you jump and squirm under his electrifying touch. The more reactive you are, the more Herman will shock you.

• Herman knows exactly what to do to have you a squirming, moaning mess. He knows how to rile you up until you’re practically begging for him, and because you’re touched starved it doesn’t take much (that doesn’t mean Herman won’t tease the absolute fuck out of you)

You were almost finished with the first generator when a static blast ran throughout Midwich, causing you to scream and let go of the almost completed gen. While most would simply shake off the ripples of electricity coursing through their veins and get back on the generator, you didn’t. Instead, you left the small classroom you were in and began to look for the Doctor—Herman. It wasn’t long until you found him and embraced him in a tight hug, heat bubbling in your core as Herman sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. “Hello, love.” He greets, his signature laugh following his words. “Did you miss me, my sweet boy?” Herman runs his fingers down your side, pulling away from the hug and taking your hand in his. The contact left you blushing, stuttering for words which only made Herman laugh again. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He hums, his free hand resting on your thigh. His touch was driving you crazy, and the teasing look in Herman’s eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“I’m sure your team wouldn’t mind if you were gone for a moment, hmm?”

• Tarhos is, for a lack of better words, confused. Why are you so touchy-feely? Tarhos isn’t saying he doesn’t like it, he just isn’t used to it. At first he would awkwardly wrap his arm around your waist, holding you close to him (moreso as a way to tell others that you’re taken). As time passed, Tarhos began to open up more, and it wasn’t long until you realized he was even more touch-starved than you were.

• Much like how he was with your constant need for his affection, Tarhos was confused but supporting of gender. You were the first person he’s met who was open about who they were, and while he was still trying to learn what to say and what to do, Tarhos accepted you with open arms (or in his case, a grunt and a nod).

• This man is desperate for affection, but will he tell you that? No. What gave it away was the fact that Tarhos always had to be touching you in some way. Any slight caress and he melted behind his armor, practically dragging you away so he could hold you close without anyone seeing you two. Despite being quite clingy and extremely touch-starved, Tarhos did not want to appear vulnerable in front of anyone other than you and his guards.

• For someone who had never really cuddled before, Tarhos was a natural. He could hold you in his arms for eternity, his large hands running over your chest, side, and thighs until you were practically begging for more. Tarhos wasn’t exactly expierienced, but he will gladly give you what you want.

You and Tarhos were lying in your shared bed, finally able to enjoy some time away from Tarhos’ guards. You were practically laying on top of him, Tarhos gently running his hands down your sides as he spoke up in a gruff tone, his helmet discarded so you could fully hear his deep voice. “I enjoy when we can spend time like this, y/n.” Tarhos admits, his confession leaving you blushing and melting into his touch. “I do too.” Your voice was soft and quiet compared to his, but neither of you seemed to mind. One of Tarhos’ hands stop running up and down your sides, moving to your chest—right where your heart would be. He could feel the beat of your heart on his palm, and for the first time, Tarhos leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I… love you.” Though his voice was quieter than it had ever been, and he sounded a bit awkward as he spoke, you could tell Tarhos was sincere. Your heart almost exploded upon hearing Tarhos speak those three words but you managed a response. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

• Caleb surprisingly doesn’t mind. In fact, he loves how clingy you are. You’re touch-starved as well? Even better. Because of his past with Bayshore, Caleb is very protective and possessive of what’s his. Whether that be holding you close to him, or small gestures that simply reminded you that Caleb cherished you dearly.

• One thing about Caleb however, is that while he doesn’t mind that you’re trans, that won’t stop him from accidentally asking some insensitive questions. It’s a product of his time, but he’s quick to put a stop to the questions if you tell him to. Caleb isn’t trying to be rude, he’s just a little curious—and also doesn’t understand what questions are appropriate and what are not.

• When Caleb figures out just how much you like his affection, he’s like a changed man. Small, private cuddle sessions soon became Caleb holding you whenever and wherever he wanted. Hand holding soon became Caleb’s arm around your waist. Caleb also began doing smaller gestures such as a kiss to the forehead, hand, and anywhere he could get.

• Caleb takes pride in his affect on you. He isn’t afraid to seek you out during a trial, hold you in front of others, Caleb doesn’t care as long as he’s with you. If his touch starts to rile you up, then you best believe Caleb will drag you away to somewhere private and… help you out.

The entity had dropped you off at Dead Dawg Saloon, something it did quite often now that you were seeing Caleb. You found him in the saloon, sitting at the bar and sipping on a glass of whiskey. When he saw you he set his drink down, gesturing to his lap before clearing his throat and speaking up. “C’mere, handsome. Take a seat.” His offer left your face red, and though you were flustered you were quick to make your way to Caleb and sit in his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close.

“Y’ like it when I hold y’ like this?” Caleb teases, lightly running his fingers over your hips. He knew damn well you liked this, and the content hum that escaped your lips only proved that. “Good.” Caleb dips his hand lower, palm resting on your thigh. You squirm under his touch, a tingle running down your spine at the contact. Caleb chuckles, leaning in and pressing his lips against your neck. “Very good.”

#dead by daylight #the knight dbd #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács #knight dbd #doctor dbd #herman carter #the doctor dbd #deathslinger #the deathslinger #deathslinger dbd #caleb quinn #caleb quinn dbd

114 notes · View notes

rabbitblackx · 1 year

Note

Can you do The Knight x Abused child reader: When the child reader was brought to the entity's realm after running away from their abusive single parent back at home, and after arriving at the survivors camp, the survivors decided to take care of them since their the only child in the realm. Later on, the child reader ends up in a trial at Decimated Borgo (The new map) and was found by The Knight after killing all the survivors. And can you put some fluff in this request?

(Also a side note about the child reader, they have a stuffed animal of a teddy bear or bunny ever since they were abused back at home, and ends up taking it with them before running away because the stuffed animal was the only imaginary friend that they ever had, and it was the only thing that makes them feel safe whenever they feel scared before meeting The Knight.)

I kinda laid this out weirdly idk lol hope u don’t mind. I still dunno much about the knighty so sorry in advance! Hope u still like it tho :)💖

Knight with a Child!Abused!Reader

The Knight wandered The Decimated Borgo in searches of the last survivor. He had sacrificed the other three, but hadn’t even seen you! Where could you of been?

A wave of confusion hit him when he saw your worn stuffed animal laying in the dirt. Curiously, the Knight bent down and picked the toy up in his armoured hand. This action caused a certain child to squeal out in distress. Tarhos nearly dropped the stuffed animal as he whirled around to face the direction of said sound

The Knight tilted his iron clad head to the side. Your childish mewl came from a haystack just a foot away. He lowered the stuffed animal but didn’t let go of it, cautiously creeping over to the bale of hay. The Knight couldn’t believe his ghoulish eyes. There scrunched up behind the hay, hid you, a small child. You were visibly shaking, with dry tears streaking your cheeks. You were frozen in fear, wide, teary eyes set on the Knight’s helmet

Tarhos had no idea what to do at first. You were the last survivor? A child? How could the Entity expect him to kill you? The killer in fact shook away any unwanted thoughts about hurting you entirely. Instead, your little whimpers and big puppy eyes were enough to tug at his dead heartstrings. The Knight’s hidden gaze still remained on you, and he gave the stuffed animal in his hand a small squeeze

Slowly but surely, the man leaned over the haystack and extended the toy down for you. Relieved that it was safe, you immediately reached out for it, hugging the plush to your chest. The Knight felt quite satisfied with himself for reuniting you two. You obviously loved the worn old thing. He wondered why. Didn’t you have parents to love instead or something? Where were they? Why were you here?

Well, it didn’t matter why you were here now. The Knight was a noble one at that, and saw it to be righteous to take you under his wing. You wouldn’t last long without someone like him keeping a watchful eye on you

What was that? The other survivors were taking care of you? Whelp, you were his now!

The more time you spent with Tarhos in his realm, the more you opened up. You were a tough nut to crack at first, which he could relate to. But the Knight was quite pleased when you slowly began to feel more comfortable around him. He wasn’t stupid, far from it. He could tell something bad happened to you in your past life

It wasn’t very complex, but you managed to explain to him how you were treated back at home. Things such as you how were ‘always hurt,’,and how your guardian was ‘mean’. The Knight could see the faint bruises and cuts along your soft skin. That made his cold blood boil

It was Tarhos’ duty to protect you. He loved you, but it was more than love. He felt as if he was your new father, your actual bio father, though that was obviously false. If he ever got his iron fists on your pathetic guardian(s), he would rip their heart out of their chest and eat it

The Knight would rest after trials with you in his arms. You cuddled your stuffed animal close as you nuzzled against his armour. You always somehow managed to drift off to sleep, which he thought was adorable. He pet your hair gently, holding you close

He was your knight in shining armour, and you were his little prince(ss)

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács #dbd knight x reader #dbd knight #knight x reader #knight #x reader #child reader #rab.reads #fanfiction

386 notes · View notes

angelharness · 1 year

Text

Was already planning on some so this works out! Like most characters I’m writing for the first time it’ll probably take some time for me to distinguish how I characterize them, currently finding things out with him. This admittedly feels more like a character study than anything.. I’m sure I’ll get to write more explicitly romantic stuff for him at some point

WARNINGS: blood (is that even worth tagging anymore) and plenty of mentions of killing

TARHOS KOVACS / THE KNIGHT

It’s hard to imagine how he maintains any non-strictly-professional relationships, even more so when considering the romantic variety. He tends to categorize most people he meets into relatively loose classifications of enemy, associate, asset, useful, or not worthwhile. In his line of work, he’s never had those lines blurred or challenged. Meeting you means rare introspection on his part.

It’s weird to chat casually, to talk about personal or daily matters rather than the specifics of a contract or even the passing chatter over dinner with his companions. He does not ask questions and doesn’t expect you to. When answering any, though, he seems to respond curtly and explicitly matter of factly, like running down a checklist. This is not out of disinterest, it’s just the way he goes about most matters. It’s not so clear if he doesn’t enjoy talking about himself or cannot think of anything he deems worthwhile to reference.

On that note, it’s a long and maybe frustrating path of trying to get to know him. You won’t be having the traditional sort of dates in the Entity’s Realm, and communication is limited by a number of barriers; English is only Tarhos’s third language, and he has just an elementary understanding of it. All things considered, he doesn’t have a very in-depth grasp on any spoken language; he grew up speaking Hungarian but was taken too early to ever attain fluency and forced to take on Italian, learned primarily through barked orders and the background chatter of his cellmates. His English, when he chooses to use it, is even more sparse, and is very much different from the vocabulary you are more familiar with. You can attempt to teach him some, but it is unlikely he’ll hold onto anything longer than a sentence. He very honestly might establish his own system of sign language before he can make himself speak comfortably.

Your best bet for getting to know him is familiarizing yourself with and learning to read his reactions and body language. This is harder to get a grasp of without a visible face to interpret, but you’ll begin to pick up on things you hadn’t noticed before; he rolls his shoulders back and points his feet forward when he’s interested. He’ll begin to gradually look aside if he isn’t. The flexing and twitching of his fingers is somehow infinitely expressive in the absence of words.

He goes about a similar process with you—he spends more and more time just watching you and how your face changes, or the variation in your voice, in your posture. Admittedly, he can only tell so much from a facial expression; he knows the telltale signs of pain, the deep lines of anguish or outright despair. He knows the gritted, grinding teeth and furious brows of someone enraged, even the glow of satisfaction, but anything beyond that may as well be new territory to him.

One way, though, to tell that he certainly likes you is that he looks at you fairly frequently. This would seem insignificant in just about anyone else, but Tarhos looks at people only when speaking with them. Not when spoken to or at, but when he puts himself on equal footing with another person so that they may discuss. He almost regards the world and other people like a single, separate entity. He does not always immediately look away when you catch his stare, but certainly doesn’t appear that he wants his interest to be known. You might never fully know what he’s thinking, but you might be somewhere momentarily in those thoughts.

He doesn’t ever really properly hold your hand, which requires him to bend down or slant his shoulder down uncomfortably—instead, he’ll more often wrap his hand around the back of your arm. It’s a little funny, appearing as if he’s taking you prisoner rather than attempting casual affection.

At some point in his life, if not during his initial capture, he realized there would be no place for him to have a lover of any sort, and given his asocial tendencies, he thought he had come to terms with that notion. Now that he’s met you, there’s been a pretty significant shift in his outlook for the future; he’s lost in how to fit you into it, and though at first this disruption is greatly offending to him, he realizes that there is an appealing aspect to perhaps settling down. For once there is an end in sight to the torrent of still, bleeding bodies. Just understand that his decided code of chivalry is very far disconnected from the stereotypes lovingly illustrated in adventure books. He’s more acquainted with the sight of mangled meat between the silver plating of ruptured armor.

He wouldn’t have ever considered himself affectionate, at any earlier point would’ve have loudly scoffed at the term, but if you can get him out of his grungy helmet and coax him into letting you brush his hair, he’ll become insistent that you do it routinely.

Tarhos might enjoy sparring with you on occasion, but these sessions tend to become more of him fixing your form and instructing you than actual skirmishes. He repeatedly has to stop to walk over and correct your stance. He’s infinitely more knowledgeable and trained than you—it’s more than second nature, but first—it’s unrealistic you’ll ever best him, but then again, you have the eternity of the Entity’s Realm to train. He’s certainly going easy on you, otherwise you’d be wiped out in the first few moments, but there’s been a handful of times you had gotten a legitimate hit on him. You had even sent him to his knees in one instance (he was at his feet again in seconds, and you suspect he had only ever got him there, in the first place, by surprise, but it felt unspeakably good).

Will not kiss your hand unless outright asked to, sorry. It had never been customary for him, beautiful maidens with rich dresses were not the ones enlisting him to go out and kill and shed pails of blood, were certainly not being saved by him, and never did spare him glances, unless they were colorless and terrified. Even the curt shake of hands was not typical in deals between those who enlisted him. However, he’ll oblige upon your request, and soon it becomes the only way he greets you when meeting again after time apart. This seems to work better after you had talked him out of bowing to you everytime.

He finds himself on edge whenever you’re away, now, especially when in a trial. He trusts you to hold your ground and keep yourself alive, but worry is such a new feeling to him that it feels, at times, unbearable. He’s never even worried for himself—things just happened and he would soldier through it, that is how his life had always been. No threats of torture or unrelenting whips had made his stomach turn and roil like it did as he paced in your absence. Days spent in sunless, lightless cells had seemingly passed faster than the time he would await your return to the campfire, to him.

He won’t run to you and hug you and sob at your feet when you reappear, but he’s back at your side before the hazy fog of the trial can leave your system. He similarly appears to search for you first when he returns from a trial.

Pet names don’t immediately appeal to him, but if you beg him for one, he’d settle on something like ‘my treasure’ or culver. ‘My heart’ is another, but he struggles to get it out and will oftentimes just stare intensely at you, trying to force the words together, hoping maybe you’ll understand and spare him the vulnerability. It’s odd, dated, and not what would come to mind when thinking of a nickname for a lover, but he actually likes it when you refer to him as your suitor. Maybe it is its explicitness, that it serves as a declaration and can only be said wholeheartedly.

ALTRUISTIC S/O

Tarhos wouldn’t believe you to be naive or ignorant for your benevolence, only ineffective. He’s found what works best for him and scarcely strays from that; slaying carelessly, indifferent to whoever stands opposite of him and his sword. He never reprimands you, nor ever feels the need to, even if your choices may puzzle him. He decides that the world will straighten you out if it so necessary, that everyone will come to learn of its ruthlessness (however life decides to show that side of its many-faced form).

He’s aware there are less violent, distastefully bloody ways to get what he wants, but the both of you can imagine he hails from a comparatively more savage background where brutality could be called common; in his eyes, Tarhos only adapted to the cruel circumstances of the society he found himself in. Nurture and nature were equally unkind to him, a pair of twin demons. He might struggle to conceptualize the drastically different life and time you came from, but never looks down on you for your selflessness. He might, however, feel the need to look out for you, knowing how ruthlessly unforgiving the world can be at times.

Eventually might develop a greater appreciation for your abundant kindness when he finds himself on the receiving end. He’s especially appreciative if you’d offer to rub his shoulders from time or time, or help him with shedding or donning his armor. Unfortunately, with such underdeveloped interpersonal skills, his only means of expressing gratitude is extending his services to you, i.e. slaughtering an individual per your request.

Tarhos will hold back on displays of violence if you are present, but it will be strange to him and require a restraint he had never utilized before. Once he does, he realizes he’s never stopped to think before bringing down his sword on the skull of an opponent. This introspection won’t change his ways in the long run, certainly won’t sway the taste he’s acquired for killing, but he tries to be more mindful of your sensitivity to bloody matters.

#dbd x reader #dbd imagine #dead by daylight x reader #the knight x reader #x reader #reader imagines #horror imagines #reader imagine #horror x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #dbd the knight x reader #reader insert

234 notes · View notes

maculatas · 11 months

Photo

Chapter 1: The Premise

Summary: The exiled princess with a scar across her face.

Ordered to be returned as soon as possible to the castle, Tarhos is sent to capture the girl and lead her back to her imprisonment. What matters is the mission, not to end up enthralled with her.

TAGS: Historical References, Historical Inaccuracy, Medieval Medicine, Eventual Smut, Power Play, No Such thing as Chivalry, Nihilism, Power Imbalance, Action/Adventure, and Canon-Typical Violence

The King’s madness descends upon his people. His cruelty, his benevolence. It is all due to him and his succession to the throne. His singular purpose.

What granted him this position had been by his great grandfather.The Great Usurper, they had called him before his march to the scaffold. He had entered into the kingdom with a hundred man army, a grand coup that fell rightfully into their lap. Swiftly and easily.

And with this his reign had begun.

The King’s great grandson now, Alaric, had married a duchess north of their kingdom. A young lady with manners and a weak constitution. She never once looked him in the eye during the coronation, the grandest wedding that all came to seek out. From peasants to the finest noblemen.

She had been adorned in the finest lace. It had taken the lace-workers three years and one hundred expertise hands to complete.

And she did not once look up. Not to seek him out, nor to wish him anything other than her silence.

Alaric could only scowl.

Wretched woman. They would only be good for one thing.

When it was time for them to consummate their marriage, she had been quiet. He had been over her body, her warm flesh, none of it satiated him.

Fiora was her name. A witch in the flesh. A lamb to all. She could only walk forth to her slaughter.

Fiora had blessed Alaric with twin sons. Strong. Forthcoming. Soon to be heirs. They grew to be strong, until one of them passed in battle. The other had become ill, eventually passing at the youngest age of twenty.

All Alaric had left was her.

The princess. She had been five, all too young for this. Fiora could not speak any longer. She would awaken in the middle of the night howling in pain. In agony. She would rip her hair out in clumps, and scream for hours.

The priest had come the days passing, convincing Alaric his wife had become bewitched.

“She is cursed,” he muttered solemnly. “She is to burn if we do not treat her soon.”

Alaric sneered, despising her all the more for her foolish behavior. “Isolate her,” he decides. “Throw her in my tower. Let her release every demon she has.”

The princess would come day in and day out visiting her mother. She welcomed her mother with old tomes written in another language. She had been entranced by the illustrations. Begging her mama to read her the story, to translate what she could.

Her mother would eventually relent, only allowing her to sit upon her lap. She would run fingers through her hair, and hum a tune that did not sound of this world. Mama never read, she never spoke. The only thing she had was her haunting song.

This is all the princess could remember.

Rage is a light word for the princess. She has decided to become ravenous.

She refuses to listen to the orders of her father, and in her own rebellion has drawn enemies. Since her mothers untimely death, nothing could quell her. Lest she forget her wrath.

The princess, despite all her beauty, has bared her teeth and snarled at every suitor her father has chosen for her.

He throws her into the tower after the umpteenth embarrassment.

“You will never see the light of day, child,” he threatens. She spits in his face. Alaric wipes it with a cloth from his pouch. “Rot here for all I care. Don’t feed her!” He barks out the orders, and leaves the tower to let her seethe.

Forever frozen in some barren place. The princess smiles, unsheathing a blade from her person. If she is stuck here, she will draw some blood to make it good practice.

Time is on her side.

When the princess stabs her dagger through the neck of one of her guards. It is vilifying. Gratifying in the most cathartic sense. He gurgles, clutching onto the final remaining breaths left in him as he collapses forward.

She watches him writhe until he moves no longer. The blood seeped deep into the stone underneath her feet. She wipes her hands on her dress, smearing the blood all over until she can escape from this hell hole. If she has to take down any more she will. Until it’s her dying breath.

Let there be blood to feed.

Alaric receives word during dinner. One of his kingsman comes rounding the corner muttering to another. The knight hastily approaches, lowering his head. “Sire, we have some news from the south tower.”

The King gives one final wave to his company. A few dukes from the north and east, discussing trade matters and preparing for the upcoming winter.

“What,” he hisses.

The knight swallows. “The princess has escaped.”

Alaric’s smile disappears in a matter of seconds. Eyes sharpened like daggers, a snarl curling on his lips. The knight can smell a hint of mead on his breath. “Find her, or I’ll take you to my gallows where you’ll never see the light of day.”

Alaric leaves, the swish of his robes following him in finality. “Come round, come round. Let us toast to a new companionship, men!” His tune changes quickly when he returns to his table of guests.

The knight struggles to breathe, knowing what his majesty has threatened will come true. He calls upon the south tower to quickly pick up haste. She couldn’t have gone far. She couldn’t have, surely.

It had taken the King’s men several days, and there was nothing left to mark where the damned girl had gone.

Alaric smashes his hands on the table of his study. “I want her head,” he promises. “I want her blood to be riddled here. Her cursed blood. Insolent child!” He muttered angrily to himself. His main guardsmen watch his reign of terror, the simple blade he keeps close to himself is stabbed deeply into the center of the wooden table.

“Sire,” the commander whispers cautiously, hoping to end this tirade.

The king looks up, hair thrown around him, eyes blazing. “What?” He replies venomously.

The man swallows, adding in confidently. “People talk in the kingdom. There are a group of mercenaries. They bounty hunt, searching for heads. Of powerful men ruled by a Hungarian man by the name of Tarhos.”

Alaric’s eyes widened in interest. “Bounty hunters?”

The guardsman nods.

Alaric’s smile grows wide like a cats. He licks his teeth. “Bring them to me. I want them to serve me in every way to find my insolent blood.”

He dismisses them, his smile never leaving his face. He slicks his hair back. “The princess will meet her match.”

Tarhos’ claymore slashed down the sides of the remaining accompaniment.

The laughter surrounding him was Alejandro near him continuing the bloodshed.

Tarhos groans, collapsing in on himself. One of those men had cut into his side.

“Quick! We must take the sire to the healer, one not so far from here.”

Tarhos swats them away, gritting his teeth through the pain. The burning coiling deep in himself, something that makes him sweat and see two mirrors of his three closest men.

He shakes it away, rising by using the hilt of his sword dug deep into the carcass of one of the slain.

“I can still continue on. I won’t die here.”

Durkos watches him, a keen eye that doesn’t leave him. “Say it, Durkos,” Tarhos grunts out, removing his helmet from his person. Damn those imperial armies. Their weaponry had much more arsenal than their own; yet still not strong enough for them. They had mutilated all of the ten in a matter of minutes. It’s why they’re known across the kingdoms, Tarhos and his Guardia Compagnia. His faithful three.

They rose in battles, the last standing over mounds of deceased. They were known for their knighthood, loyalty to a certain cause, and their prowess on the battlefield. Men keep themselves close to earthly desires; money, sexual pleasure, or notoriety among bloodshed. Tarhos since as long as he could remember, has been swimming in blood. Born from the mountains of the dead as a child surviving the plague. They had taken him into the convent of monks and priests, raised him well until he set off on his own. He trained under mercenaries, skilled swordsmen, and bounty hunters. None of them followed authority except only their loyalty rode with them for the people who hired them.

His priest had told him peace will come upon him. Tarhos knew better. He was a child of death. Reborn again to live, just like Christ himself. “He walked after three days and three nights, he had risen from his tomb to set out on showing his proof. Perhaps, you are a mirror of him. Like in his image.”

Tarhos was. In many ways was the mirror image of a God.

A demigod they would call him. A monster on the battlefield and his three men beside him, the four horsemen. The righteous. The deathless.

Tarhos sets off somewhere down the tree line, Durkos trailing behind him closely.

Sander grunts, spitting off to the side, unsheathing his weapon as it makes a squelching sound after being removed from a smashed head. The blood smearing on the side of his trousers.

“Where to next, sire? The healer isn’t too far from here,” Alejandro states.

Tarhos grouses something incomprehensible. “None of that, I go where this path will take me. To the nearest village.”

“Aye,” Durkos says. “How should we welcome them, then?”

Tarhos sniffs, his lip curling. “With our blades.”

Tarhos and company await for the massive gates to open forth.

The men surrounding the perimeter eye them with vigilance. Durkus spits off to his side, wiping off the grime from his head. “What do ye think of these people, sir?” His accent is thick and hoarse from previous rampaging. Tarhos’ hands twitch beside him.

“Do they think we are foolish?” Alejandro murmurs, his sword weighted in his palm. He considers thrashing it again over the lifeless body of the last man he maimed. Alejandro does so in dominance. The sickening crunch resounded in the courtyard.

The other guardsmen make no other move, but the man who comes forward looks like the king.

He claps his hands, the strong palms echoing as the rest step away from the carnage. Sander lifts the head of one of his men, holding it up as a mockery of a white flag. Tarhos speaks then. “We come in peace, your majesty.”

The king grins wickedly. His hands open wide with appraisal. “Ah, Tarhos Kovács and the Guardia Compagnia.”

He then walks across the courtyard, not minding the blood beneath his feet. “I am glad you can show your skills to me for a heavy price.”

“What is that you demand of us, King?” Tarhos asks. The weight of his armor burning against him. He has exhausted himself after this brawl, feeling already lightheaded from the loss of some blood and a few aches in his ribs.

They had attacked him and his company ruthlessly, but these men were no match for the awful four and their strength. Tarhos knows pain. He has experienced it since he was a young boy. In his roots, he holds the deepest fascination with blood on his hands. The gritting in his teeth and the ringing of silence, he chases after that familiar sensation. The simple thrum of battle. Tarhos has banded together a strong number of men, willing to fight for his own gain. In this mission, he will be able to ride on horseback and live in a tavern with no other exceptions. Tarhos imagines the gold against his palms, and the joy of his three men once they finish what is made of them.

The King‘s smile is serpentine. “Come, men. Come feast in my kingdom. We welcome you!” He announces, the surrounding men jeer and Tarhos doesn’t relax.

“Do you wish to stay here?” Sander asks by his side.

“As long as we’re needed,” Tarhos responds. It is a simple statement. One his men do not understand. Conquests come and go, but following the orders of a King is not always one they come upon.

They eat alongside the table, gorging on fat duck, beef, and roasted potato slathered with spices and a gulyá dish that makes Tarhos devour it in one sitting.

The King sips his wine. “So, my knight and his company,” he announces. They don’t look up and the King continues regardless if they’re listening or not. “My daughter, my flesh and blood has escaped me.”

Tarhos’ slows his chew. “A retrieval for a person?” This should be interesting. He’s had to bounty hunt previously, offering the heads of many noblemen for a fine price. Some alive and others mostly dead.

For a woman. Now that would be different.

Tarhos grimace does not go unnoticed. The King’s smile is gritty, all yellow teeth and decay. “She has left, only for me to mourn her. Now, make no mistake. She’s dangerous.”

“What are her transgressions, sire?” Tarhos asks, suddenly curious. What kind of creature was she to evade a king and his men? Someone much more conniving than they take credit for. Obviously the king cares less about the girl. It’s not about saving her, it’s about having control over her.

The King swishes his wine, taking a rather large gulp. “She has committed treason against me.”

“Quite a large declaration on her part,” Tarhos responds.

The King only grins, leaning forward. “She is the same blood from her cursed mothers womb. She wishes to kill me, her father? I sent her off to one of the towers and somehow she escaped, killing two of my men.”

Tarhos raises his brow to that. Interesting, he feels a familiar hum in his veins, his mouth watering. The onset of a bloodlust wishing to set him free. He pushes it down, relishing what remains of it yearning to escape him.

“And the girl? If we were to capture her?” His three men cease their movements of enjoying their meal, intent on what their employer is to say next.

The King laughs, a deep belly chortle that echoes in the dimly lit dining hall. “Bring her to me alive,” he says, his face lengthening, dark eyes inflamed by the lamplight. His smile looked wider than normal, teeth sharper. “Death is what she wishes to meet.”

“What an odd woman the King has,” Alejandro says beside Tarhos. “Women should be more susceptible to our charms, no?”

“They’re fearsome things,” responds Durkos. “They’re just as lethal as we are, dangerous beings with just as much charisma.”

Sander nods, rubbing at his chin. “With the girl, if we were to find her–”

“When,” Tarhos interrupts him, teeth gritting. The weight of his claymore against his back is the only grounding sensation he feels. “When we find her, we’ll make her kneel.”

The threat of his promise lingers among his men, he ascends forward to the front of the group.

The princess has become public enemy number one. She travels on horseback, her clothes dingy, hair wrapped into a tight veil, a mask covering her face. No one recognizes her as a nobility. They can’t in any way know.

She had taken the dagger given to her by her mother. Her mother had used it on herself to escape from her frightening, beast of a man who was her husband.

The needle point of it had burned when she sliced it over her features, she had done this to ensure her father would never find her a suitor among awful men. He had been furious, had locked her away with nothing to eat for hours, maybe days.

He had punishments for her disobedience, her insolence. The princess held such a strong anger towards him, feeling an insurmountable rage. It’s what carries her onwards, to get back at him. She lives only out of spite.

He may be on his way to finding her whereabouts, but she knows she is much more elusive than what they give her credit for.

Tarhos sets plans to depart on the fifth day, heading towards the west.

Sander gives a quiet grunt off to his left.

“Do we know where we’re going, sire?” Alejandro asks, leading a horse down the mountainside.

It was very vague directions the King gave them. He had pulled them out in one of his cupboards, a sloppily drawn map of the surrounding areas of the kingdom. “Here, you can look at this. We look beyond the stars and follow this one,” he gestures to a bright one in the sky. “Follow this and it will lead you to the nearby town.”

“What does your perpetrator look like?” Tarhos had inquired.

The King’s grin glinted. “The most undesirable creature you will ever lay your eyes on.”

#tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács x reader #tarhos x you #dbd imagines #dbd reader

78 notes · View notes

amandav09 · 1 year

Text

Run

There’s not enough fic on him -_-

Summary: They are behind you and you can only run

Warning: none

The places inked in a mixture of blood red and black would have confused who conch set foot there. The favourite map of the knight and his minions made the back as cold as finding themselves in the «game» maps. Time if found frozen, kept in the same form as long as the entity wanted it

You would run, avoiding every obstacle that presented itself to you, a pallet here, a window there, anything that could be used to slow down the person behind you was a good pretext for use. The tattered cape you wear around your blow whipping air at every move

The hut was just in front, with good technique and timing, it would be child’s play you think go through the window, but barely your feet were on the ground that a strong grip grabbed your arm, cut you in the wings

He who had committed this action happened to be a man, barely bigger, giving half of the lower face was covered with a red cloth.

«Winning» Murmured his hoarse voice through the fabric, his eyes fold under the winning smile

«No, please let go of me» Beg you, wiggling in his grip

But he did nothing, only his smile grew bigger as the heavy steps were heard.

"What do you want in return?" Your voice was being spanked more and more hastily, wanting to avoid the fate that was to come.

He seemed to think, but time pressed.

“Actions have consequences.”

Another person appeared in your vision, elbows pressing on the bottom of the window frame through which you had previously entered

He is barely bigger than the first, half of his face hiding by a steel shell. Just behind him was another much more imposing gift only the mouth was visible

«The mouse and in the cat’s claws, it looks» Ricana the bat

An imposing shadow appeared from the corner of the eye at one of the doors, its right frame imposing respect, and if you were not restrained, you would have fled a long time ago. One might almost have thought that smoking it out of the holes of the helmet, give a more dangerous side to the man covered from the head to the foot of armor, but who conch had seen at least once the knight knew that there was something missing in his appearance.

«I believe that you have stolen something from me, my sweet» His calm voice resounded while taking a few steps, enough to be right in front of you.

It wasn’t until then that the assassin let you go, stepping back a bit to leave you alone face to face with his leader

The knight held out his left hand, his right hand holding his sword at rest, and put his fingers on your neck, where he could feel your lice beating under your skin, he lowered them gently, drawing the shape of your jugular to your covered shoulder blade. Catch the red cloth covering your shoulders, it lifting it towards your eyes, spanking you a few centimeters forward to the force exerted on the cape

“As much as I love to see you covered in what’s mine, I still need this one.”

You had to stop yourself from insulting him.

Only the sound of laughter from the other three spectators

The cape became light before disappearing from your frame, finds its original owner.

The same hand as previously found itself on your cheek, caress it gently, a slight comfort in your sulking state.

You turned your head to the murderer who leaned on a locker, arms crossed.

«Durkos dirty traitor» He shrugged without much remorse

An arm surrounded your shape, moving you towards the exit.

Outside, the knight lowered to reach your author, sticking his steel forehead as gently as possible on yours.

«Next time, my love, maybe you will succeed»

You were soon joined by the others, some encourage you for the progress achieved in the race and others criticize the stupid decision to take the window.

But despite this, you feel good, covered with the arm of the one you love, and surrounded by those you considered your family.

Even with the hostile environment around you and the eternal suffering these places could cause

#tarhos kovács #tarhos kovacs x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #dead by deadlight #dead by daylight x reader #the knight x reader #dbd the knight x reader

108 notes · View notes

daddy-deathslinger · 2 months

Note

I have returned

If it's cool, could I get something for the knight, maybe a little Slow burn-y? I'm not sure what the term for it would be but something where he keeps trying to deny his growing affection for his future s/o, but it's getting increasingly harder for him. And his faithful 3 notice and start to make comments about how hes being sweet on them (at least sweet for him) and..he does eventually admit to himself he does have feelings for them. SNENWKKW SOMETHING CUTE

Haha

I'm so normal about him

👹

Hey there, loyal Knight admirer! Here's yer written thingy, hope ya like! ❤️👹

“I’m your man” - The Knight/Tarhos Kovács x GN!Reader

“This is the fifth time you’ve given them hatch, Tarhos!”

“Yeah, just admit that you’re-”

“Silence!” Tarhos bellowed, and his faithful three were quiet at last.

Finally, sweet silence. Tarhos grunted and turned around to walk away to his thinking corner of the Borgo. Unbeknownst to him, his faithful three snickered a bit behind his back. Tarhos was not a merciful man, far from it, but even he knew when to appreciate a good opponent. And you certainly were a worthy opponent. During trials, he always noticed how you showed true companionship to your allies by saving them, taking hits for them and even dying for them. You fought back bravely against all killers, not making the trial easy for anyone who tried to hurt you or your allies. Tarhos appreciated that. Appreciated it, that’s all! He had no idea where his faithful three had gotten the stupid idea from, the idea that he somehow favoured you. He didn’t, how could he favour a survivor? His loyalty was with the killers.

The next trial commenced, and Tarhos was as ready as ever. The Entity had granted him good fortune in this trial, he had many abilities that would come in handy. He felt good about this. And yet, the survivors seemed to be on their best game as well. They worked together, and that was always a nail in the coffin for killers. And then there was you. You seemed to shine even brighter than usual, never shivering in front of Tarhos or showing the slightest amount of fear in the face of death. He hooked you once, and you barely screamed as the meat hook pierced through your flesh. Tarhos almost forgot to leave the hook you hung on, he wanted to see what you were going to do next. But he left, obviously, to go hunt for other survivors. He noticed that during the whole trial, his attention seemed to be somewhere else. It was annoying, even infuriating, to notice he fell for silly tricks by the survivors and lost many chases due to his wandering mind. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Gods, this torment! The trial was at its end, the exit gates were opened and the other survivors had escaped already. You remained, though, and Tarhos could not for the love of the Gods find you. He searched, sent out his faithful three but they all came back empty handed.

“A skillful one”, Alejandro said, but quickly got quiet as Tarhos stared at him.

Where were you? Tarhos ventured alone into the mist, searching. Suddenly, a sound. Someone greeted him? He looked around, and there you were. Standing next to a finished generator, eyes on him. Why had you made your appearance known to him? He was going to sacrifice you now. Or was he? Tarhos stood in front of you, staring you down. Then, he saw you place your medkit on the ground in front of you. An offering. For mercy? No, you let out your arms to your side, baring your unguarded body to him. You wanted to be sacrificed. Tarhos was confused, but also very impressed. You had evaded him, and here you were, offering yourself up to the Entity. Tarhos knew better than to take the offering, he knew how hard you had fought the whole trial. No one deserved the escape more than you. So, without a thought, he dropped his sword to the ground, taking a step back from you.

“Go”, he said.

You looked him dead in the eye. Tarhos was wondering what was going on behind those eyes as you seemed to think hard. The silence was deafening, only the ticking of the Entity playing in Tarhos head. Time was running out. Then, you slowly turned around and walked towards the exit gate. Tarhos was proud, you took your victory like a true champion. As he watched you walk out those gates, a strange feeling took a hold of his insides. A pressing feeling, right where his heart was. He tried shaking it off, but seeing you disappear into the mist, he knew he was lost. Not lost to the cruel torment in this place, not even lost to the Entity. He was lost to you. Your eyes, your courage, your confident walk. Tarhos let out a heaving sigh as his faithful three approached him.

“Well…?” Durkos said.

Tarhos gave them a look of annoyance, but eventually nodded. He was in love, and there was nothing that could be done about it. He was yours, and he prayed to the Gods that you were his.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács #dbd the knight #the knight x reader #dbd fanfic

67 notes · View notes

bunsluvsu · 7 months

Text

New writing blog is a go! Hoping to post fairly often but as for a start how does a smutty Tarhos/reader sound? 👀👀

#Deadbydaylight #dbd killer #dbd x reader #dbd survivor #new writer boost #tarhos kovács #tarhos kovacs x reader #dbd the knight #The knight x reader #Dbd killer x reader

21 notes · View notes

rootsofdread · 1 year

Note

Welcome! I love seeing new blogs like this so I can’t wait to see your writing style (: We’re in a Tarhos content drought so may I request any knight hcs you have? Maybe how we would initiate a relationship and what’d it be like? 👀 Tysm in advance!! ❤️❤️

thank you!! <3 i wasn't expecting a request so fast! i'd be delighted to help with a tarhos content drought, i've developed a little crush on him myself :-))

Tarhos is stubborn and old-fashioned and wouldn't be receptive to any advancements, so you may as well not even try. He'll be the one making any and all moves, because he believes that's how it should be.

It'd be a slow-burn earning enough of his respect to even have him interested in you, but once you do, you'd have him locked in. He has no respect for anyone, so when someone earns it, they're something special in his eyes.

He would probably immediately point-blank tell you how much he likes you and wants you to be his. He's not one for secrets and wouldn't see a point in hiding his feelings, even if he's not sure that you feel the same. But he'd be quite pleased when you return his feelings.

A word of warning: Tarhos is a very aggressive flirter. It carries over from his mentality of seeing something he wants and just taking it, and partially from his lack of experience. He wouldn't hurt you of course, but he makes it very obvious that he likes you by chasing, cornering, and tunneling you in trials. Kind of a "boys will be boys" thing, it's just his way of showing affection. Hopefully you can keep up with him.

Along with his aggression, though, he will have his chivalrous moments, as a knight should. He isn't cruel, not to you. Outside of trials he'll be respectful and even polite; they're games to him, and after all, you're his partner. He's different outside of them, loving you in a more conventional way.

He would gladly parade you around in front of other killers and survivors, as if you were a prize he'd won. He's proud of you for earning his respect and affection and won't have it go unnoticed. Everyone must know who's won Tarhos Kovács's heart.

He would be fiercely protective of you as well, always staying by your side, and leaving a guard with you when he can't stay. Always has an arm around you or a hand on you to let everyone know who they have to go through if they want you. He keeps you from harm even though he knows you're perfectly capable of looking out for yourself. He'd be devastated if something happened to you.

#inbox #i hope this is good!!#btw i read his new tome pages to get a better scope of his character for this and dear GOD he's 6'06''. WHO LET HIM DO THATTTT #take out his kneecaps right neow #tarhos kovács #gender neutral reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovacs x you #the knight x reader #the knight x you #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dbd imagines

203 notes · View notes

gothy-froggy · 1 year

Text

The Knight + The Faithful Three’s Ass, Tits, or Thighs (caught staring)

Warnings: suggestive, nsfw here and there

Tarhos Kovács

Tits. Tarhos LOVES tits. To be fair he’s interested in all three but his number one is boobs. He also loves thighs because he can lay his lap on them and they’re comforting. When it comes to getting caught..

no shame.

…

Kind of.

He’s a little embarrassed and that’s it. If he’s staring at his lover’s chest when they’re in front of him and catches him, he lets out a very soft cough and turn his head. If it’s from a distance or just not in front of him, he simply just shifts his gaze.

It’s a different story behind close doors though. The way to really embarrass this man is by telling his gang how much he begs for them in bed.

You heard me.

Begs.

Tarhos wants them bad. This man would let his lover do anything…if he can pop one in his mouth 👀

He can’t keep his hands off of them. When they tell his gang, they’re laughing their asses off (Alejandro) while he’s silently pouting, glaring at them. The only way they can make it better is by pulling him into hug and let his face be between them tits.

Alejandro Santiago

The a and l in Alejandro’s name stands for ass lover and he doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t even care if he’s caught. Turn back around mamas he’s not done looking. He whistles and slap his lover’s ass when he has the chance.

Public or private. He does not care.

Alejandro definitely has a nickname that’s for their ass.

What riles him up is when he can see it but can’t touch it. Anything that fits nicely on it or makes the ass revealing always catches his attention. And being forced or told to not touch it just bothers him.

Is genuinely upset.

In bed, he’s all over that ass. He gets very touchy. Anything involving doing things with his lover’s ass, he’s in.

If his lover tells him to stop (in a joking way) and slaps his hand, he complains.

“Come on!” He whines.

But they can always make it up later though, he won’t complain about that.

Durkos Malecek

Like Tarhos, Durkos like tits. He doesn’t mind getting caught either.

No matter the situation, if he is caught by his lover, he looks back up to their face and continues with whatever was happening.

Sometimes he’ll stare again but usually he’ll stare later. He doesn’t get caught often though. Durkos doesn’t get embarrassed either. Even if his team knows. If they point it out he simply moves on with his day.

In bed he isn’t touchy like like Alejandro or that desperate like Tarhos. Usually when told or has permission, he’ll massage them. A few kisses. Durkos would do a lot more when asked or told to.

He does stare a lot when things are pretty calm. He gets shocked and a little flustered when his hands are forced on them, or his face.

Just a little flustered.

Sander Rault

Unlike the others, Sander enjoys thighs. He doesn’t mind tits or ass, but he goes crazy for thighs.

He’s pretty embarrassed by it. He tries to hide it.

But he’s always glancing at them, laying on their lap, having a hand on them when he can.

He isn’t the best at hiding the fact that he was staring. He quickly looks away and tries so hard not to look again for the day.

So when he’s confronted about it he kind of shuts down. When he’s told that it’s ok and it doesn’t weird them out, he’s very much happy.

Wants his head between their thighs but is too scared to asked.

So when they did it to him, he was in heaven. He wants to die between them right there and then.

When his team finds out he’s a mess. He doesn’t know what to do. He needs a kiss from his lover and some time laying his head on their lap.

Sander LOVES marking them up. Kissing, biting, sucking, all of it. He loves it. Sander can be with them for hours.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #tarhos kovács #tarhos kovács x reader #sander rault #sander rault x reader #alejandro santiago #alejandro santiago x reader #durkos malecek #durkos malecek x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd headcanons #dbd the knight x reader #dbd the knight #dbd the jailer

248 notes · View notes

omenics · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌.

..cw for mentions of pregnancy, (seemingly) one-sided love, although i believe that’s it. very self indulgent.

› ..vittorio has left again, and you silently hope that your knight fills the void you had lost. fem reader. — hi dbd community. i am fulfilling my will to write for this mf even tho i dont play dbd 👍 but anyways enjoy the thing inspired by wolven storm from the witcher bc it slays and ignore how bad it is im bored and need to write stuff lmfao

Life was always filled with misfortunes, all being thrown at one over and over until sometimes it was too much. But to you, not everything was bad. The beating rays of the Italian sun rained down with relentless heat, and to those unfortunate enough to farm when the sun was at its peak, or to even dawn armour from head to toe gained your sympathies.

Although the keep was warm, it was not as hot as it was outside and you were thankful— but the layers of fabric that had adorned your bodice stuck to your skin and bound all heat to your body. Perhaps you were unfortunate as well, for your clothing was soaked and sticking to you; but such was normal for summers and as a lady of the house you had to endure. Vittorio was gone on yet another expedition, leaving you alone to your own devices. You wondered how he was managing through the hot summer, however you assumed well. He was smart, and had probably found a way to keep cool if he was still in this familiar climate.

Your mind wandered to the men clad in armour, how they had been feeling as the sun beat down upon the hot metal— they were nearly fainting you bet, and your eyes wandered to Tarhos.

He stood by the door alone, his back turned to you as you tried to relish the cool breeze flowing in from your window. It was much too hot to be doing anything, and you had chosen to sulk in your quarters. The knight at your door was tall, and you had known his armour was heavy just by its look. You wondered if he was suffocating as the hot, humid air never lifted just as you— but he was different, and was the Guardia Compagnia.

Your husband left them home this time instead of taking them on his journey, and you were happy.

Although rarely spoken to, you were fond of Tarhos. Perhaps you were drawn to him, to his tall stature and professional nature, more than a married lady should be— but you could not help it, as fantasies of your childhood sparked through your mind and heart while you gazed at him.

The thought of being a princess and having a knight in shining armour to come save you sent nostalgic excitement through you, remembering the storybooks you had grown to love and attach yourself to. When your marriage had come, you shook off the dreadful anxiety that came with it and hoped that you would live in a fairytale, in an ideal life that a lady would— however you had been wrong.

No child had barren your womb, and at times you were grateful— the others not. Perhaps you were only disappointed as that is what your life had groomed you to want, to carry children for your husband, or maybe you were disappointed because it caused a feeling of loneliness, of being loveless. You knew you loved your lord husband, but you wondered if he had loved you the same. He was busy, and had little time for your comforts— but that was what you had grown used to, and you solemnly accepted that you would have no children of your own, or a husband to fully love you.

At times you wondered if pursuing another would have been better, or if you had married another lord and became his lady wife you would not think such thoughts, but that is not what happened and you could not change it.

A slight creek from down below your window had made you focus back to the present. Staring was not ladylike, and you smiled at your moronic thoughts. You could not have the knight at your door, you knew it— however a small spark of childish hope brewed in your heart. Perhaps one day it would fade and fizzle, leave and be forgotten. Or maybe it would come true, to see your titles as Lady of Portoscuro relinquish and become a forgotten lady in the history books, happy with the unattainable man stationed outside of your chambers’ door, watching and guarding.

He was only something you could only hope for, but guilt nagged at your heart. He was honourable, chivalrous. He would not break vows, and nor would you.

100 notes · View notes