leadxxr

[leadxxr]

@ferociium

I got a taste of you and now I'm ready for the whole meal. Come to me, love; I want you more than you'll ever know

#~ musings #ferociium #s: danny johnson #~ queue

[leadxxr]

Frank lifts his mask just to bite Dwight’s cheek. What is he doing this for? What is the purpose?

@coolrpblog

Dwight is understandably taken aback, brows furrowing as he exhibits a small wince of surprise. "Um . . . Ow . . .?"

#( jesus frank wtf lol ) #coolrpblog #~ answered #s: frank morrison

[leadxxr]

This hell is where i'm from & this hell is where i'll stay

#~ now playing

[leadxxr]

@nghtshroud

i hate this. i hate that i know you don't care and that you couldn't care less about me, even though you told me a couple of times before that you like me too. but i just don't feel it, and i hate that you could easily leave without any trouble and easily forget about me while i would die for you. please, i just need you to love me, doesn't have to be as much as i love you, but a little bit. i just need to know that i matter to you, even if you're just with me out of boredom. please.

#nghtshroud #~ musings #s: the ghostface

[leadxxr]

@ferociium

i am as sure about you as i am sure i will survive the next day, meaning i choose you as i choose to live every day despite the madness, despite the pain, despite the uncertainty.

i love you despite. i love you deliberately. i love you on purpose.

#ferociium #~ musings #s: Danny Johnson #( damn )

[leadxxr]

@ferociium

... I am playing a dangerous game.

Darling, is it you haunting me so?

Or am I seeing you in the shadows of others, and merely hoping?

I hope it's you.

I hope every one of those shadows is you,

Then I'd feel far less delusional

And maybe I'd feel a little better being a little less normal

Being able to drop the pretense of being so restrictively... normal.

I think you'd like that, if it is you

And not just figments of my imagination

Running wild, reading between lines and coincidence

... I like basements, you know, and I'd offer my wrists to whatever chain or rope you would so pick

.

#( okay sobbing brb ) #~ musings #ferociium #~ queue #s: Danny Johnson

[leadxxr]

Dwight's hesitant gaze returns slowly from the embers sparking before them. He appreciated Alan's outlook on things, though somehow it did little to ease the heaviness that always remained dormant in his mind. But he meant what he had said about morale: it was vital to keep it up, otherwise their team would falter and meet equally horrific demises.

As Alan's hand came to rest on his shoulder, he was suddenly aware of just how close he sat to him; reminded how touch starved he really was. Not even in any certain kind of way, but human contact was pretty vital to any human being feeling even remotely normal, especially in the Fog. Sure, other survivors fraternized from time to time, but Dwight hadn't much interest in that department. In fact, he'd just about completely abandoned any hope for companionship a long while before the Entity claimed him as a pawn in her wicked charade.

Deep brown hues drift downward to where the older man's hand laid upon his shoulder; it actually brought him a strange sense of comfort, as usually it was Dwight providing the pep talks and placing his hand upon the shoulder of his distressed peers. He couldn't lie . . . it was a nice change of pace.

Proceeding upward to meet Alan's eyes, he feels . . . comfort. A genuine soul condemned to the same hell scape he found himself in. It felt nice to not feel so alone. . .

"I, uh . . . I appreciate it . . . I just wish I was able to contribute more, y'know? But you're right . . . we all play our parts. Some just do so better than others, I guess . . ."

Hearing that Dwight’s reply was a yes, his smile stayed on his face. He noticed the returned smile Dwight had shown him and it was appreciated. Seeing a smile in someone else face was a nice sight; even if it was forced. As the leader talked on about his worries, Alan sat a little closer to him in some effort to comfort him.

He wasn’t the best at conforming others… but he would try his best. Alan was mostly a realist rather than a pessimist or an optimist, but in these times? He tried to be a little more optimistic. A small gap was between them as he didn’t want to be all over him. Alan’s hand begins softly patting the other’s shoulder affectionately. He doesn’t do it for long just a few seconds before placing his own hands back into his own lap.

“Hey, don’t be like that. Everyone here has a purpose and a role to fulfill. You are doing your part just like everyone else is. You may not be a wiggle expert, but you’re our leader. You help us all. Even when times are tough… we can always count on you. Always. Times are tough sometimes.. ain’t no doubting that but don’t ever feel as if you aren’t doing enough. You are. We’ll continue to make it now and furthermore.”

Alan pauses for a moment. Did he say too much? Surely not… right? He clears his throat softly. His blue eyes linger softly on Dwight but not too strongly, his eye contact was soft as he could possibly make it.

“You’re doing the best you can and.. that’s enough for me. I want to teach you because I want to; not because I want something in exchange..”

#champion-of-light #( i love them already sm ) #( dweet deserves a daddy to take care of him raHHHH ) #( he's got so much baggage from the Fog alone ) #( he deserves a break and some love )

[leadxxr]

‘   i   can’t   handle   it   .      i   can’t   lose   them   again   .   ’

@wiredsmile | ACCEPTING !!

Dwight couldn’t even properly process seeing a killer vulnerable like this. But something told him that Susie was more or less the Legion's “weakest link” so to speak. Not that he thought she was weak, at least no weaker than he himself felt at times. But that she seemed vulnerable, inexperienced, and somewhat volatile to a certain point. Dwight could relate to that feeling of vulnerability, the kind that made you want to sink into your skin like a snail and block out the rest of the world.

He was an empath, by nature, and unfortunately sometimes even killers weren’t exempt from that instinctive side of himself. Susie just made it even easier for him to identify and relate to her anxiety.

“The … the Legion, you mean?” He began to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, always trying to be exceptionally careful with his diction around her specifically. “I … don’t really know how to help in that respect except maybe ….” The words forming on his tongue felt so out of place and just plain odd. “Telling them that?”

#wiredsmile #c: susie lavoie #~ answered #( waHHHH ) #( he's tryin to help but has no idea how )

[leadxxr]

@champion-of-light (smol thing just cuz <3)

"Not gonna lie . . . Kinda curious what you, uh . . . see in me." Dwight's voice was laced with bashfulness, cheeks turning a light pink as his right hand reaches beneath his own hoodie to rub awkwardly at his neck.

#champion-of-light #( just wanted to throw something fluffy and smol your way since it may take me a lil to get to the longer stuffs <3 ) #s: alan wake

[leadxxr]

HARD-TO-FIND HURT / COMFORT SENTENCE STARTERS.

a selection of some of my favorite underrepresented lines and phrases for one of my favorite tropes! feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.    

TO THE THREAT.

“let them go.” / “let me go.”

“take me.” / “take me instead.”

“don’t hurt them.” / “i’ll do anything you say.”

“what do you want with me?”

“where are you taking them?”

“what did you do to them?”

“where is receiver?”

“give them back.”

“get away from them!”

“get off them!”

TO THE HURT.

“can you hear me?”

“wake up… please, wake up.”

“are you with me?”

“stay awake.” / “you have to stay awake.” / “please, stay awake… please…” / “promise me you’ll stay awake.” 

“don’t close your eyes.” / “open your eyes for me, name.”

“there you are.”

“just a little longer, okay?”

“i know it hurts, i’m sorry, it’ll be over soon.”

“shhh, it’s alright.”

“i need you.” / “i still need you.” / “i need you to be okay.”

“do you remember what happened?”

“name?! name! what happened?!”

“what did they do to you?” 

“if they lay a finger on him/her/them/you…” 

“if they touch a hair on his/her/their/your head…” 

“those bastards.” / “if i ever get my hands on them…” 

“i’m gonna get you out of here.”

“let’s get you out of here.” / “let’s get you out of this.” 

“we gotta get out of here.” / “it’s alright, name. we’re taking you home.”

“can you stand?” / “can you walk?” 

“i won’t let anything happen to you.”

“you’re safe.”

“it’s gonna be okay.” / “you’re gonna be okay, just hold on.” 

“you’re hurt.” / “did they hurt you?”

“i’ve got you.” 

“lean on me.”

“stay with me.”

“i can’t lose you.” / “i’m not losing you.”

“oh, name…” / “oh, kid…”

“receiver? receiver, it’s me. it’s sender.”

“i’m here.” / “i’m here. i promise.”

TO THE RESCUER.

"...where am i...?"

“what happened…?”

“i’m with you.”

“it hurts.” / “make it stop.”

“you came for me…” / “you came back…”

“you found me…”

“where were you…?”

“i’m sorry…”

“i was so scared.”

“i thought you’d never find me…”

“what are you doing here?”

“just go. you can still make it. don’t worry about me.”

#~ prompts

[leadxxr]

SOFT(ish) ANGST PROMPTS

“  i thought you were gone.  for good. ”

“  you left and—  i thought you weren’t coming back.  ”

“  i miss you.  i know i’m not supposed to,  but.  i just had to see you.  ”  

“  please don’t scare me like that again.  i can take a lot of things,  but not losing you.  ”

“  i can’t even take the very thought of you getting hurt.  ”

“  you could’ve gotten yourself killed! you could’ve— fuck!  you scared the shit outta me.  ” 

“  yes.  i am telling you what to do.  i’m telling you not to pull something like that again because—  ‘cause fucking hell.  i care about you.  okay? ”  

“  i found myself driving home and then.  well i was on my way here.  ‘cause i guess…you’re still my home.  ” 

“  please,  tell me why you’re upset.  tell me who did this?  ”

“  you don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know.  i can clean up my own messes.  ”

“  don’t talk.  just get the fuck over here and hold me.  ”

“  loving you is like having my heart just out in the world.  outside of my body walking around.  every time i see you hurting,  it kills me.  ”

“  i made you cry.  and i hate myself for that.  i swore i wouldn’t be one of the people who left you hurting.  ”

“  you really hurt me this time.  but i want to let go of that.  i really do want to forgive you i’m just scared you’ll hurt me again.  ”

“  i know you’re mad at me right now,  but i’m the one who’s here.  let me be here.  let me help.  you can be angry later.  ”

“  i’m here now.  i know i wasn’t before.  but i should’ve been.  and i’m not going anywhere.  i’m not gonna let that happen again.  ”

“  it’s time to come home now.  ”

“  that’s enough.  you’ve got your revenge.  let’s go.  ”

“  i know you’re hurting.  and i can’t fix that.  but i can refuse to let you hurt alone.  ”

“  i’m never letting go of you.  i missed you so fucking much.  ”

“  look at me,  you’re safe.  and you’re not alone.  and i’ll never let you be alone again.  you understand?  ”

“  i broke my promise to you once.  i’ll never do it again.  ”

“  i don’t need you to go white knighting and fix all this.  i just want you here.  with me.  that will make me feel better.  ”

“  just stay still and let me hold you.  ”

“  you don’t have to hide your tears.  let it out.  then we’ll move on,  together.  ”

“  i just.  needed to talk to you ‘cause.  somehow you always know what to say.  ”

“  don’t bury your feelings.  sadness.  hurt.  rage.  feel it.  acknowledge it so you can decide what you want to do with it.  not what it will do to you.  ”

“  i miss your smile.  and not that sad one you try to fool everyone with.  the real one.  the one you used to show me.  ”

“  come here.  i’m taking care of you tonight.  and you’re gonna let me.  ”  

1) our muses reunite after sender thought receiver was dead. 

2) our muses reunite after receiver thought sender was dead. 

3) sender shows up at receiver’s house drunk after they’ve broken up. 

4) receiver shows up at sender’s house drunk after they’ve broken up. 

5) our muses are on bad terms but reunite after one of them nearly dies. 

6) sender finds receiver crying and approaches,  clearing the tears with their hands while demanding to know what happened. 

7) receiver finds sender crying and approaches,  clearing the tears with their hands while demanding to know what happened. 

8) our muses haven’t been speaking,  but sender rushes to take care of receiver after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

9) our muses haven’t been speaking,  but receiver rushes to take care of sender after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

10) sender hurt receiver in some way,  which led to receiver doing something reckless and sender shows up to stop them/or deal with the aftermath. 

11) receiver hurt sender in some way,  which led to sender doing something reckless and receiver shows up to stop them/or deal with the aftermath.

12) our muses are in a fight,  but cuddle anyway because they don’t like sleeping alone. 

13) receiver wakes sender from a nightmare. 

14) sender wakes receiver from a nightmare. 

15) sender wakes up in the hospital and finds receiver at their side,  who is in the same clothes as the day they were admitted because they’ve refused to leave their side. 

16) receiver wakes up in the hospital and finds sender at their side,  who is in the same clothes as the day they were admitted because they’ve refused to leave their side. 

17) our muses are currently on the outs,  but receiver goes through something traumatic and sender pushes past their friends to get to them. 

18) our muses are currently on the outs,  but sender goes through something traumatic and receiver pushes past their friends to get to them. 

#~ prompts

[leadxxr]

17. a  kiss  to  give  up  control 👀

@champion-of-light | ACCEPTING !!

Dwight's breath sat bated in his throat, brows somewhat furrowed as Alan closed the space between them. Was he . . . really not scared of him? Did he truly see that small part of the old Dwight Fairfield at his core? How could he possibly see past his exceptionally selfish, cruel nature? Something about the older man's lack of fear threatened his typically unwavering composure.

The ex-survivor admittedly felt a bit more than mere intrigue. In fact, he felt more aligned with the old Dwight Fairfield than he ever had since his corruption by the Entity. In his head, countless horrific scenarios played back invasively. He could shove his knife into his gut like it was nothing, twist as the Entity encouraged him, reminded him of his new purpose in the Fog. Yet, he didn't. It was extremely rare that any of the survivors took the time to empathize with his pain, his reasoning . . . and admittedly Dwight struggled with the heaviness of guilt every single night. It was painfully clear he hadn't slept a proper night's rest in . . . a very long time.

He stood stoically as Alan approached, seemingly unbothered by the blood stained knife in his hand, at the ready; an immediate threat. It wasn't until the unforgiving edge had met the man's neck out of pure instinct alone that his grip wavered. He wasn't scared. How could he not be scared? Dwight merely blinked as Alan leaned in to claim his lips in a way that actually made him feel . . . something. And before the killer had much time to process, he found himself leaning into his soft lips, a carnal thirst rising in his chest as his grip faltered and his blade fell to the ground.

He wasn't afraid . . . Alan had become an enigma that prompted the collapse of his threatening energy and certainly something he would ponder and overanalyze during those frequently restless nights . . .

As their lips parted and Dwight's deep brown, chocolate stare returned (it was softer than usual, but harbored a heavy amount of both intensity and confusion) he began to find his voice again, still extremely intrigued by the fact that the immediate danger of his blade to the soft of his neck hadn't deterred him whatsoever. He would certainly consider going further, as physicality had become an excellent, albeit temporary, distraction from the endless screaming in his mind. But something about the interaction seemed . . . softer than he had initially anticipated.

"Y- you're walking down a dangerous path, you know . . ."

#( read more'd just cause it's LONG AF ) #( i got so carried away ) #( ALSO HIS STUTTER CAME BACK A LITTLE WOW ) #( ALAN ACTUALLY BROKE THROUGH A TINY PIECE OF HIS WALLS AHHH ) #v: seeing crimson (dark!dwight) #~ answered #champion-of-light #c: alan wake

[leadxxr]

@champion-of-light | continued from here

Dwight's troubled features contorted into something akin to intrigue, and perhaps a bit of confusion. The man's response was certainly not was he was expecting, and admittedly it threw him for a bit of a loop. The bags underneath his eyes were readily apparent without any need for the aid of his glasses. The Entity had provided certain boons in exchange for his loyalty and service.

" . . . the very same that didn't give a shit if I lived or died."

The morbid tone of his voice accompanied his wandering eyeline to the three individuals who lay motionless and limp on the ground between them.

"Jake . . . Kate . . . Meg . . ." His voice low and macabre, he gestured with a crimson soaked knife to each survivor as he listed their names with zero remorse in his tone . . . If anything, he held a deeply rooted resentment mixed with a fleeting ounce of pride. Dwight found it exceptionally difficult to show even a modicum of mercy to those that had contributed so strongly to pushing him to his breaking point. "Though I don't anticipate them being too pleased to know you got hatch. Hypocrisy at its finest."

#champion-of-light #( RAHHH ) #c: Alan Wake

[leadxxr]

uh oh, looks like dwight's hoodie has gone missing in the night. the only hint of where it might have gone.. is a knife stabbed into the poor excuse of a pillow beside his head.

@nghtshroud

Upon awakening, Dwight's first priority is reaching for his glasses; while he was well aware of the vulnerability of not having his glasses, he doesn't want to even risk crushing them in his sleep. Rubbing his eyes with a single fist, a yawn escapes him, his body still feeling especially weak and heavy with exhaustion; quality, restful sleep had always been especially difficult for him to achieve in the Fog, and for good reason.

Returning them to their home on the bridge of his nose, he feels something against his elbow, and much to his dismay, it's a very familiar looking blade. . . Instantly, his heart drops into his stomach. In a panic, his next priority is reaching for the hoodie often draped over him in his sleep, though without fail, he always awakens to it somewhere not on his person. Only it's nowhere to be found . . .

Breath hitched in his throat, he knows there's only one person responsible . . . what was this, some kind of invitation? Holding his primary article of clothing hostage? Dwight has some idea of where the Ghostface resides, though a precise location was a mystery to him. It feels extremely strange, inspires fear to grow in his gut as Dwight makes his way into the fog, on a mission.

#nghtshroud #( BRUH HAHAHA i'm fucking dead ) #( I NEED DWIGHT TO FIND HIS LIL HIDEOUT AHHHHH ) #( HE WANTS TO SEE HIS FACCCEEEE ) #~ answered #~ ghostface fic

[leadxxr]

OKAY I have decided to stream bc I look cute with these new glasses and I actually am craving a small amount of socialization for the time being wahhhh so I'll post shortly after I eat when I'm going live !! <3

#( i may or may not have stolen them from my husband bc they help with migraines ) #( when you look at a screen all day ) #( i just need to get some authentic dweet ones now heheheh ) #( i need to shave but idgaf ) #~ ooc

[leadxxr]

‘   but   isn’t   it   worse   ?      to   pretend   ?      to   live   a   lie   ?      what   about   love   -   doesn’t   that   count   for   anything ? ’

@wiredsmile | ACCEPTING !!

The hesitant survivor’s pupils vibrated in thought, swallowing away the unease that rose to the surface at her use of the word love. So some of these killers really were capable of feeling things other than merely rage and bloodlust… huh. The concept intrigued him.

“I’ve … never really been . . . in love, so — I’m not sure. But I certainly know a thing or two about … pretending. To be someone you’re not. . . Just for the sake of someone else. And y'know … regardless of why you’re here …. Maybe there’s some way to turn it around? At least … mentally. If any of that even makes sense...”

#wiredsmile #~ answered #s: susie lavoie #( SOBBING BYYEEEE )

[leadxxr]

Just about as soon as the familiar swoosh of fabric met his ears, faintly echoing down the dilapidated school halls, Dwight was filled with a peculiar sense of dread. Was he dreading being caught? Or was he dreading coming face to face with the one addiction he didn’t want to quit, but forced himself to do so cold turkey . . .

The hoodie clad survivor dipped into the nearest classroom at the earliest opportunity, quietly taking refuge in the farthest locker available among the row; he’d learned by now that killers often liked to check the most obvious ones first, but rarely did they want to waste the time it would take to check every single one. Dwight was certainly hoping that would have been the case, but as soon as he heard that eerie sound of metal on metal, his heart lurched into his throat and panic began to consume him.

Eyes widened with a sudden violent gasp as he flinched back into the metal of the shallow locker, that familiar ghostly visage greeting him as he felt the threat of a sharp edge against his throat.

“Can't …” he took a nervous gulp against his better judgment as he attempted to cast his gaze downward upon the blade that threatened to sever his throat. “Can’t b- blame me for trying, though…”

Though he couldn’t see those deep hazel eyes that made him melt, he could feel them boring into him from behind the safety of the mask. As the pressure was released, an deep exhale of relief left him and he was back to feeling just as helpless as the first time the Ghostface had pulled him out of a locker.

It's not Danny. It's the Ghostface. They aren't the same. But Dwight found it difficult to convince himself.

« file name: fairfield, dwight » @leadxxr

Another trial, another slaughter waiting to happen by his very blade. The white hot anger once felt had long dissipated, leaving behind nothing more than a hole right in the middle of his chest. Just like a black hole devouring everything around it, turning any light into pure darkness. Desperate to be filled, because anything was better than the dull emptiness he felt if he was to let himself dwell onto his thoughts for a little too long. The killing ( which became more gruesome, brutal ); watching the desperation and terror in the survivors' eyes before their life slowly left them as he gutted them alive, the only thing keeping him tethered when every piece of him was barely kept together by a thin rope. Part of him wondered if the Entity kept sending him from trial to trial for that very reason, because his newfound brutality was appreciated.

Not that he minded.

He was ready for the show to start, his blade craving the warm blood of the unaware survivors. Except, while he stalked through the familiar grounds of Midwich he caught a glimpse of a familiar hoodie, one he could recognize everywhere with the amount of times it laid on the floor of the privacy of his basement. It brought the Ghostface's movements to a pause, for a brief moment finding himself wondering if he had finally lost it and started to have vivid hallucination, after all it seemed that the Entity was doing a good job at not dropping said survivor into his trials. But no, that couldn't be. Dwight was there.

Suddenly every single unwanted emotion he had been ignoring and shoving deep into his void filled chest, started bubbling to the surface, spilling everywhere. The trial forgotten, just like the wrath of the Entity he was to face later, the only thought in his mind was to find him. And he knew exactly where to find him, after all the other seemed to enjoy the lockers when he wanted to hide away.

― The blade of his knife being tapped against the second row of lockers as he walked past them, slowly, careful to not miss even the smallest of noise. His steps coming to a alt, hazel hues staring with a familiar intensity at the locker right in front of him, as if he could see inside of it; as if he could see Dwight there, hoping to pass unnoticed.

The sound of a generator getting completed in the distance ignored.

The locker being opened with little to no care, before just as quickly he pressed the survivor against it when he forced himself into his personal space, his knife against the soft of Dwight's throat. " Well, well. Were you trying to hide from someone ? " Despite his harsh actions and words, there was a pained edge to his tone.

" I told you, you can't hide from me. " Why was his chest feeling so tight now that he finally had the survivor right in front of him ? Why the hanger he felt that day didn't come back and instead there was only yearning filling his chest as the hold of his knife loosened ? Could Dwight see beyond the ghostly orbs of the mask and notice the storm behind his gaze ?

#ferociium #s: danny johnson #( RAHHHHHHH ) #( let's fucking go )