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dominantslasherking · 1 year

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(whatever character cause i can't think of anyone rn lol) who's obsessed with and obsessed with pleasing the reader? like would absolutely do anything to worship him

Jed Olsen/Ghostface [DBD] With dominant male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Jed was extremely hyper and more excited about his killing rounds today, specifically because the newest killer [Name] which the entity is known to favor most of the time, is going to be on a duo kill session with him.

And god was Ghostface obsessed with this handsome killer, just seeing him walking around with his weapon got Jed all riled up. Of course [Name] wasn't a completely silent killer, when he did talk his voice was so fucking husky that Jed nearly jumped the killers bones every time he hears him speak.

Jed was simply glad the entity decided to change the games up a bit, with more survivors in the round and more killers to even it out, "Heyy, buddy--ole pal!~" Jed teased his smaller frame walking right next to your right side his mask was pointed upwards to look at you since you were much taller then he was.

You simply stayed silent looking down at the other killer both of you felt your bodies tingle, meaning you were getting teleported into the map.

Once you were teleported you wasted no time searching for survivors, Jed following you eagerly, once Jed spotted a survivor who was hiding, he smirked under his mask, taking the chance to sneak up behind the survivor and slash at their back.

Jed grabbed the survivor and placed his knife on their neck, "Listen here bitch, if I even see you struggling just a tiny bit I'm going to slice my neck into your flesh and then chop your head off!" Jed hissed into the Survivors ear, before gripping the survivor's hair with his free hand.

He threw the survivor at your feet, "I got this one for you.." Jed bashfully whispered, kicking the survivor's stomach for trying to grip at your ankles. "You---stupid---!!!!STOP TRYING TO TOUCH HIM!" Jed screamed crazily, plunging his knife into the survivor's back, over and over, until his mask and the dirt was drenched in blood.

"I'm...oh gosh so sorry, I stole your kill--" Jed whimpered under your gaze noticing you tilting your head at him, his heart beating rapidly at your full attention. "I was, just so jealous, I'm your number 1 fan after all" Jed slowly whispered getting up off his feet, Jed could hear your slow deep breaths, "Are you angry?" Jed asked leaning against your chest in a testing manner.

Jed felt something hard press against him, causing him to freeze, his body shaking a little from the realization passing through him. "Oh....ohhh~" Jed let out a little chuckle as he pressed himself harder against your body, his hand sliding down to grab your hard length.

"Fuck, is this for me? You're so fucking huge, oh god, oh god!" Jed pushed the dead body out of the way getting on his knees, he was about to release your cock from your clothes but was interrupted by a survivor running past.

Ghostface shot up, "I'll get them, okay? Then I will help you with your...problem---big problem, later, after the games~" Jed purred, his thoughts filled with lust at taking your cock for himself.

<>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>><<<<>>>><<>>>

The game had finished, obviously, the two killers winning, right now both Jed and [Name] were currently somewhere in the killer's section of the forest, far away from the survivor's border or any other slashers.

Jed's mask was on the floor, relentlessly sloppy and wet gagging sounds filling the entire area.

Tears glittered in his eyes as you were gripping his soft hair and fucking his wet craven mouth. Jed was sucking in his cheeks letting his tongue run along your cock eagerly, his saliva going all over as he choked on your cock.

His throat was being stretched open from your length sliding in and out of it, it was obvious that this wasn't the first round as Jed's face, was covered in cum, and there was cum dripping out of his mouth and onto his neck.

With a pop You slid out of his mouth, Jed suddenly caught his breath and looked at you, "Pleaseee~Cmon please~ I really want more of your cum!~" Jed cried out, his hand resting on your thigh as he opened up his mouth, showing you the cum on his tongue as he stuck it out eagerly to taste more of your cock and the sweet nectar that flowed down his throat.

You complied, jamming your cock back in, at the clearly happy Slasher who looked up at you as he took your cock inside his mouth.

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apollodarling-writes · 6 months

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

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

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

“pl—please…. let me go.” you cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yanderedbdimagines · 1 year

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Oh I saw the ask about the lock locker with the reader inside can you do it with the other killers The Doctor The Legion The Ghostface The Trickster of your choice ^^ like they got a chance to kidnap there darling but the entity lock the locker the darling is in to spite/punish them

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I like writing about this request a bit too much to only chose one of them, so I chose them all. >:D For the Legion I chose Julie Kostenko.

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WARNING: Mentions of torture! Blood, gore, cussing, etc. Very descriptive.

The Doctor

‘Damn it,’ is all you could think in complete and utter frustration as you found yourself locked within the locker on the main floor of the Huntress’s cabin. Just as you swore that the Doctor’s ran past you, you tried to get out and sneak out the way he just came through from, but the doors just wouldn’t give in.

What makes the matter worse is that you’re the only one left. Your heart pounds in your chest as you fully realize that you are completely at the mercy of one of the most sadistic killers in the realm.

As if sensing your fear, the Doctor's fluorescent eyes peer down through the slats in the locker's door. You can feel his gaze burning into you, and a shiver runs down your spine. You try to stay quiet, but the static in the air only grows stronger, indicating that he knows that you’re in there. As result, your skin’s being prickled by the crackling air that found its way inside of your little space. It’s highly uncomfortable as a continuous tingling sensation, which borderlines to a humming pain, is affecting nearly every patch of your skin.

Suddenly, the Doctor's twisted laughter fills the air, and you realize that he has been toying with you all along. Your stomach churns with fear and anger at the realization that you have played right into his hands.

You fall back against the wall with a defeated sob before sliding downward, your heart haven jumped up into a frenzy and with your lungs already gasping aloud since of a sudden shortage of air due to an ever larger amount of fear jolting through your veins- aware that he could open the doors at any second.

You’re getting sick and you feel like you’re about to puke all over yourself. You can already imagine various scenarios in which he’s already torturing you to death. Very slowly flaying off your skin and precisely trimming through the flesh underneath in order to pick apart your nerves, nails pulled off before traded in by electrodes, skin around your head skinned wide open for better access to your skull before that’s broken wide open… You’ve involuntarily seen short snippets of the videos in the Lery’s memorial institute during few of the trials you’ve ran so far, haven showed you what he’s capable of.

One other method springs out to you the most; how he’s about to fry your brains out in the most painful way possible. His way of how he prefers to kill nearly each and every survivor. Quick, but very, very painful. The survivors who died this way can only remember that it hurt like hell, but they can’t fully remember how hellish it was after they were resurrected by the Entity shortly after. Obviously, you don’t want to find this out yourself, but it seems like this is about to be your first time.

You proceed to close your eyes and cradle your own body as pure panic consumes you from the inside out… But…

“Oh?~” The killer hums.

You dare to open your eyes again, only to see him turn away from you.

You listen closely to the fading footsteps before slowly standing up as the prickle of the skin disappears along with it. Peering out through the roster, the Doctor is nowhere in sight.

You swallow. He must be trying to give you this false sense of security. For all you know, he may be staring at the locker right now and waiting for the moment where you may end up succeeding to leave the locker.

Decided, you stay put. And just as you started to question if you should make a mad dash for it after all after a few minutes has passed by, something dark twisted and swerved around your body.

From just outside of the room, the Doctor witnessed how the Entity took you, and he could already imagine where to.

He sighs deeply before chuckling to himself.

Herman had hoped for this to be the moment to bring you back to his territory and have you all to himself, but the moment he pulled at the handle of the locker, he already knew that he wasn’t even allowed to. This was confirmed just a few minutes after as he closely watched and waited of what would happen; also yearning for the moment if you did get out just so that he could catch you off guard and kidnap you by force.

Still…

Maybe he’s not allowed to have you right now, but the Doctor will do everything in his power to be allowed to have you in the near future.

The Ghostface

You find yourself huddled in the cramped confines of the red locker, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear Ghostface’s raspy breathing just inches away. You had been separated from one of your teammates during the chase, and had to duck into the nearest hiding spot which you could find after you swore you’d lost him. But now, you’re trapped, with no way out and no one to help you- made evident by an intrusive thought that barged through your mind of how you somehow know that they've left through the gates.

The other survivor just went up and abandoned you.

Ghostface's voice suddenly crackles through the locker's vents, startling you out of your thoughts. "Hey there, little bird," he says in his signature distorted voice. "What are you doing hiding in there? Come out and talk to me."

You stay silent, hoping he'll give up and fuck off. “Shit. Now that’s just rude. Staying quiet like that.” But Ghostface is persistent, and he keeps talking; "You know you can't stay in there forever," he says. "Why not come out? I promise I won't ruffle your feathers too badly."

You can feel the panic rising in your chest as his words sink in. You know that if you stay in the locker too long, the Entity might jump in. But the thought of facing Ghostface, with his razor-sharp knife and twisted mind, is almost too much to bear as well.

As the minutes tick by, Ghostface grows increasingly agitated, his breathing becoming more erratic and his words more desperate. "Fuck! Come on, come on, come on," he mutters under his breath. "Why won't you come out? The clock's ticking, sweetheart."

You grip your head. And for a fleeting second, you start to think it actually may be better to face his blade than to feel a spider's leg puncture through your stomach. The killer senses this, and he tries to speak again- perhaps one last attempt to get you to come out.

A low groan suddenly rattles through the air and interrupts him, a sound similar to that of a sinking ship. Only one source is capable of making such a noise.

A thick black mist begins to seep into the locker, swirling around you in thick tendrils. He suddenly screams in anger, haven seen the occurrence the second he looked down. “NO! Don’t you fucking do this to me!” A loud bang follows- indicating that the killer’s rammed his body against the doors as a desperate attempt to get inside.

You suddenly find yourself back at the campfire not long after, surrounded by the other survivors. Jake is there, looking concerned, as he asks you what happened.

You try to explain what happened in the locker, but your words come out jumbled and incoherent. All you can remember is the feeling of being trapped, the sound of Ghostface's voice, and the overwhelming sense of relief when the mist swept you away.

As the other survivors comfort you, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if you had stayed in the locker a moment longer. Would Ghostface have managed to coax you out, or would the Entity have intervened regardless?

One thing is for certain: the horrors of the Fog are not to be underestimated. Including the unpredictable kind as the Ghostface’s just showed to you.

The Legion(Julie Kostenko)

“I’m not here to kill you.” You hear from the other side of the wooden surface.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself, trying to push away the fear that threatens to consume you. You glance at Julie through the narrow slits in the locker door, trying to read her body language. She seems sincere, but you can't be sure for as long as she’s donning that signature mask of hers. “Listen; I know you’re very scared right now, but I mean it when I say that I don’t want to hurt you.”

She's saying that now because she can't get inside. Still...

You considering Julie's words carefully. It's true that she hasn't harmed you, but that doesn't necessarily mean you can trust her. The Legion is known for their cruelty and unpredictable behavior, after all.

“Please, know that I'm not like the others. I don't enjoy hurting people anymore. I just...I just want to be understood, you know? I mean, have I ever hurt you as of late?"

She’s right. To date, she’s basically the only killer who hasn’t, and there has to be a good reason why the Entity has locked you in here because of that.

But at the same time, this could also be a ruse. After all, it’s a stone-cold fact that she’s a killer, and you simply do not know what it is that she’s trying to pull here. For all you know, she’s been playing around with you all along and simply wants to kill you once you’d set a foot outside- mocking you in one of the most twisted of ways just so that she could tell it in full detail to the other Legion members later on.

"Why should I believe you?" you ask, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

Julie sighs, leaning against the locker from the other side. "I get it. You don't trust me. And I don't blame you. But you have to understand, we're not like the others. We're not just mindless killers. We have a code."

"A code?" you repeat, incredulous.

Julie nods. "Yeah. A code. We stick together. We don't hurt each other. And we don't kill for fun. Only when we have to. Only when the Entity forces us to."

You consider her words, weighing them against everything you've seen in the Fog. The Legion has always seemed different from the other killers. More... human, in a way. But that doesn't mean you're ready to let your guard down just yet. Not for as long as you remember how they killed any other survivor during a trial, especially the way Julie did.

"I appreciate that you're trying to reassure me," you say finally, your voice shaky, but obviously tainted by semi-sarcasm. "But I don't trust you. And I don’t think I’ll ever will."

There's a long moment of silence, and you can hear Julie pacing outside the locker as if she’s morphed into a starving animal. You hold your breath, waiting for what's next.

But suddenly, something cold swiftly crept up your legs, and you hear a surprised gasp, the sound of a knife falling to the ground before distinct clattering of someone repeatedly pulling against the doors infiltrates your sense of sound.

You feel the familiar sensation of being transported away by the Entity's power as everything shortly goes black.

You blink, disoriented, as you find yourself standing at the campfire.

Julie is obviously nowhere in sight, and you can't help but wonder what might have happened if you had trusted her and stepped out of the locker. But for now, all you can do is try to stay alive and hope that you'll eventually make it out of this seemingly never-ending nightmare.

The Trickster

Yun-Jin Lee had told you and the other survivors everything she knew about the Trickster when she was the newest one to arrive in the Fog. A tradition held so that each and every survivor could make plans and mental preparations in case they’d face him for the very first time- making sure the chance would be as low as possible that they’d ever get caught off guard by one of the newest killers.

Yun-Jin had described each of the Trickster's inhumane killings, displaying his unique style of general torture method.

You had listened intently, taking in every word and committing each detail to memory. You didn't want to be caught off guard by the Trickster, not like the way some of the other survivors already had been.

In exchange, all of you filled her in about the other killers roaming the Fog.

Her words replay over and over again as you found yourself shivering underneath the yellow gaze of the killer in question, separated only by the locked doors of the infamous red locker, and all that preparation seemed to be for nothing.

Your breath catches in your throat as he starts to talk to you with a very thick Korean accent coating each and every word; “The things I’d do to have your undivided attention on me like this more often. The things I’d do now to have this moment last forever. The things I’d do for you. The things I’d do to you.” He chuckles dryly. “Sadly, the Entity has already decided that I’m only allowed to have so very little of you.”

He presses his forehead against the roster, his eyes never wavering from yours. It almost reminds you of a kid trying to be as close to their favorite zoo animal for as far as the fence would allow them. A creepy and downright murderous kid…

"Say my name," he demands suddenly, his tone firm and unwavering. “Say it. I know you’re aware of what my name is.”

You freeze, unsure of how to respond. A braggart laugh flees him- clearly crazy and psychotic in content. "Silence? Shame, but I'll find a way to get you to say my name once I've dragged you back to my place. Now that I think of it, when do you plan to get out of there?” He tilts his head as his almond-shaped eyes narrow in feigned amusement. “Soon, I hope?"

You try to push the fear down, but it's overwhelming. You are trapped, with no way out. You pray that the other survivors will come to your rescue, but deep down you know that it is unlikely. The Entity apparently has its own rules, and it wasn't always on your side.

You are quickly proven wrong as a sudden cold encircled your body, shadows soon overtaking most of your vision.

You feel something flutter on top of you the moment the darkness enveloped you in its cold embrace completely. At the campfire, you realized that it was a signed photograph of him that he has slid inside at the last possible second.

You couldn't help but shiver at the memory of the Trickster's twisted charm as you instantly chuck it into the fire. Yun-Jin Lee had warned you about him, but nothing could have prepared you for the sickening thrill that he brought to the Fog.

#dbd x reader #dbd #the trickster #the doctor #dead by daylight #reader #yandere #insert #the legion #the ghostface #scream #julie kostenko #ji woon hak #herman carter #danny johnson #jed olsen

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skylarsblue · 2 years

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Hi could you do the slashers with a yandere s/o who also happens to kinda brutally kill people? Thanks 😊

(This is the ask where I wrote like, 500 words, and then it deleted itself. The audacity. Also, fun fact, when I redid this it refused to save. So I had to go through and copy/paste everything. I barely managed to do it all before the site crashed again. I might do more of these later on, but for now, I'm only gonna do four of them.) Trigger Warning; Descriptions of murder, blood, & gore, kidnapping(mentioned), stalking(implied) Unhealthy relationships and an unstable (Gender Neutral) Y/N. Barely proofread.

Ghostface; Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson (A sweet-faced & doting lover; A House Spouse)

Danny had been stressed out of his mind. More so than usual. Combinations of his day job and his "passion project" were intense enough most days, tiring but manageable for his twisted mind. Though recently, a new variable had made it increasingly more difficult. Trying to keep his hobby a secret was easy when he wasn't close to anyone, being overly cynical and critical of others made it easy to keep himself socially isolated. Keeping appearances without risk. However, conflict arose when he met someone he genuinely enjoyed the company of. You.

Danny had managed to go years without this kind of outcome. And yet, here he was, straining himself more than usual to try and keep face. All you had done was move across the street. He'd done his usual sleuthing, played his All-American mask, charmed his way into your home. It was meant to be the same thing as before. Yet somehow, against all kinds of barriers and obstacles, you'd wormed his way into his psyche and stuck there. He knew he was fucked when his thoughts would drift off in the middle of writing articles. Especially when his beloved cat decided you were good enough to like. Months of late-night talks on his lawn chairs or inviting him over for coffee and something you had baked. He mentally berated himself for liking your cooking so much. He'd even opened up to you slightly. Complaining about the woman who wouldn't take no for an answer at his job, how it gave him headaches. The way you portrayed yourself would work so well with Jed. Polite, a bit playful, helpful. It almost made Danny jealous, of himself no less. It felt ridiculous and added a tremendous amount of strife to keep you from seeing anything incriminating. He found himself exhausted as he parked in front of his house, rolling his neck, allowing it to crack loudly. The brunet huffed and took a quick glance at your home. He stopped when he noted something…off. Danny knew your schedule to a T, even if it was a bit sporadic sometimes. The typical times you woke up, what you tended to have for breakfast, hell, he knew how you did your laundry. So seeing all the lights off, curtains drawn so tightly, it sent his nerves alight. Curiosity mingling with…worry? "God, I'm pathetic." Danny huffed as he made his way over to your home. He knew every exit, every lock, every shaky window. Your front door being locked didn't deter him at all. It felt odd doing this in his work clothes, however. With skill and practice, he jumped over your small fence and approached the side door that lead into the garage. Its lock was old and rusty, easy to jiggle out of place. The man let himself in. There wasn't a sound he could discern, no TV or kitchen noises. He shook off the idea that he was concerned for you and chalked it up to only being perplexed by the sudden change in your behavior. Even spaced steps lead him to the door that went from the garage to the main portion of your home, as he walked in silently, he could faintly pick out your humming. He carefully stepped down the hallway toward the sound, seemingly from the kitchen. The closer he got the more he could smell the heavy, chemical scent of bleach and peroxide. Turning a corner revealed the only light on in your home was the small light above your sink. One you essentially never used. For once, Danny showed a bit of apprehension as he went to the doorway to your kitchen. His breath hitched at the sight. A half-cleaned scene of carnage. Blood stained the tile and a few spots on the wall. Some spots were pink and streaked, clearly wiped over. Two bottles of bleach sat on your counter. Where he often had morning discussions with you. Caramel brown eyes looked to the corner where a body lay on trash bags. His coworker, the one he'd complained about. Stabbed so many times her torso barely resembled a body anymore. He tore his eyes from the corpse and finally looked at you. Sat on the floor, pleasantly humming a song he'd shown you from a high school mixtape, back turned to him. Wiping up a plethora of blood from your floor. Dressed in one of the aprons he, almost shamefully, had fantasized you in with nothing underneath.

It took you going to dip the rag in a blood-water bucket for you to notice him. There wasn't a moment of fear or panic. He watched you gasp and then smile sweetly, standing up. "Jed! I didn't know you were coming. I would've cleaned up faster." You said, stepping closer with an aura of peace & joy. Danny looked down at your face. Blown out pupils, a gentle gaze, he could practically hear your pulse. He glanced at the body in the corner. "Oh, right." You speaking made him look back to you. "I know you complained about her, and she was already upsetting me, so I figured I could get rid of her. You already work so hard. She shouldn't be making it any worse." Your explanation was affectionate. As if you'd done him a service… And indeed you had.

"So that's why you were busy today…" Danny smiled, allowing himself to tuck you closer by the waist. He felt bubbling pride at the way you didn't hesitate to melt. "You did a wonderful job, you know that? How about I help you clean up?" He asked softly.

"Then I can reward you."

Leatherface; Thomas Hewitt (A rough-edged soft-souled partner. A protector.)

The Hewitt family was always seen as odd in the tiny town of Fuller. Luda Mae was known as a hardass and Monty certainly seemed a bit off his rocker. Charlie was seen as a jack-ass, pretty rightfully so. But the member of that family that was most rumored about, most insulted, and most disputed? Thomas Hewitt. The baby pulled out of the trash. Luda swore he was her son and would go through hell to defend him. Anyone in Fuller who knew who Thomas was had an opinion, just about every single one of them was negative. It seemed that it was just his existence to be called ugly and stupid for the rest of his life. It got a bit better when he was pulled from school at age fourteen, but the rare time that the family needed to head into town, he could hear the muttering. However, unbeknownst to Thomas, for the longest time, there was one resident who didn't view him that way. Even when you never approached him, your opinion had never changed. You'd viewed Thomas from afar for the longest time. Usually in class when you two were younger. It crushed you when he suddenly stopped showing up. You hadn't forgotten him once despite having yet to see him again. He often plagued your thoughts, even now as a young adult, working for your family. It was easier to do than trying to get a job anywhere else. Cleaning the little shop run by your father now took up a large portion of your time. The world seemed pretty dull. Keeping to yourself and day dreaming about the boy you'd never had the confidence to approach as a child.

And then, like the heavens opened up to hear you, a somewhat familiar woman wandered into the store. Ms.Hewitt. You didn't approach her right away, simply listening to her discuss what she needed from your father. You winced when your father demanded more money. Followed by Luda asking for a favor, it was all the money she had. "I'll cover the rest." You said, setting the broom against the service counter. Luda Mae blinked in awe at the sudden act of kindness and you brushed off your father's arguments. "Just give this woman the food crates, pa. It's not like they're sellin' extra well anyway." You retorted, setting some money in the register before turning to get the cart that held said crates from the back. Luda Mae found herself smiling, though it wasn't very wide, it wasn't any less genuine. "So, how we gettin' these into your truck, Ms.Hewitt?" You asked as you dragged the cart out the door. "Oh, I brought my boy Tommy. He can handle it." She explained. Unbeknownst to her, your heart began to soar.

It was then that you watched the long-lost muse to your dreams get out of the truck. He'd grown so much. At least 6'4" now, if not taller. You swallowed as you watched him saunter over, a mask covering his face. He took only a second to glance at your face before he looked down, almost ashamed. "Well, he seems like he can handle the heavy lifting, that's for sure." You commented almost playfully. It made Thomas's attention flick for a moment. "That he can." Luda replied. Finally, after years, you managed to look Thomas in the eye and give him a smile. Something you used to be so fearful of. "Nice to see you doin' well, Tommy. Missed you when ya left school." You were confident he wouldn't really remember you. Even if he had noticed the quiet kid at the back of the class, your newfound confidence almost made you seem like a new person. Still, you felt the words needed to be said.

That day made such a difference. Luda remembered you and anytime she had to make a run to town, with Thomas or not, she'd make sure to clue you in on the family happenings. News about Thomas especially. Never before had someone regarded her son with such kindness, and she was intending to try and keep it. Naturally, word got around Fuller, and you became subject to some public ridicule. Much to your father's annoyance. He took his reputation very seriously, so hearing you had been heading out to the Hewitt house didn't go over well. But, as an adult, he couldn't force you anywhere. You remained there even when Fuller's population began dwindling. Staying in the tiny house about a mile from the Hewitt home despite your family's arguing.

And when the meat plant went out of business, Thomas and Luda were insistent that "Hoyt's" idea stay in the family. That not a word of it reached you. Lest you see Thomas as a monster like everyone else. Charlie & Monty didn't care for you. Harshly opinionated and far from submissive, but Luda refused to get rid of the only person that regarded her precious Tommy with such adoration. And then one day, you showed up unexpectedly, with some canned produce you felt they could use. Staying longer than the family wanted you to. You were about to ask where Thomas was when rapid footsteps and a scream resounded from the basement. Naturally, you turned to look. A bloodied woman arising from the steps and the rev of a chainsaw. Luda felt her heart sink at what you seeing this meant, Hoyt silently rejoiced that this meant he could get rid of you. Thomas was caught off guard by the sight of you, and it gave the fleeing woman ample time to jab him in the thigh with a screwdriver.

"Damnit boy! Pay attention!" Hoyt demanded as the girl went running again. There was nothing in the way of the front door, nearly home free. Bleeding, panicked, but all she had to do was run. She'd be home free.

The sound of something swinging, a blade colliding with bone and tissue, a choking-bubbling sound, and the dripping of blood on wood floor. The house fell oddly silent as the Hewitt family looked at you. Holding an axe grabbed off the wall, the rusted blade implanted deep in the woman's skull, face rather blank. You glanced up at Thomas, then his thigh. With a gasp, you let the body drop and rushed over, disregarding the blood on his hands and the chainsaw he held. "Tommy! Goodness, that's got to hurt like hell! Here, sit down, we need to get that out and disinfected. I don't want you gettin' sick." You insisted, gently pushing him to sit in a dining room chair. Not leaving any time for the family to process what they'd watched you do as you doted over Thomas. Said man however watched you with wide eyes, some of it shock, but so much of it adoration. He'd been so afraid that you'd flee from him if you ever saw what he was doing. Yet you didn't hesitate to keep his family safe and care for him. You pecked his cheek as you got the first aid kit, his breath stuttered in response. "If you're gonna be gettin' your food this way, you're gonna need to be more careful, Tommy. I don't want to see a single drifter put their dirty hands on you again." You said as you held his face tenderly. Whether Monty or Hoyt liked it, you were very clearly staying.

The Shape; Michael Myers (A childhood friend, loyal follower. An Accomplice)

When you arrived in Haddonfield as a kid, the last thing you wanted to do was make friends as your parents so insisted. You'd moved so much and every time you were always rejected by your peers. Then your mother forced you to meet the neighbor's son. A small blond boy, only a year older, with blue eyes so dark they resembled the ocean's abyss. He was offputting and quite frankly rude. Always so blunt the few times he'd spoken. Yet somehow, the universe seemed to shove you two together more and more. Much to your dismay, you found you had far more in common with the boy than you had with anyone else. So you allowed yourself to tolerate him.

Then, with things like bullies, your mother's pressure to live up to her standards, and then your father's growing absence? He seemed to be the only thing stable enough to keep you above water. Finding it easier to cling to him, despite his growing behaviors that clearly caused concern. Overlooking things like pictures of dead animals and ultimately the admission he'd thought of killing someone. It broke you apart the Halloween he finally decided to do it. Having him dragged away from you in a cop's car, sanctioned away from society for over a decade. Not once would your mother allow you to find him, even forced you to leave Haddonfield's safety. The first town you ever genuinely settled in.

Michael's presence remained a key fixture in your life well into adulthood. Never straying from the idea that he'd come back to you. Leading you back to Haddonfield, leading a bland life, a lonesome one. Why bother knowing anyone else when they weren't him?

And then Halloween came once again. Immediately followed by bloodshed, life broadcasts of new bodies being found, the ramblings of a doctor swearing he knew who was behind it all. You'd been out at the time. Leaving a job's late shift, weaving past giddy children on the sidewalk. You loved Halloween and it always ached to experience it alone again. It was when you turned to take a shortcut that you felt the weight of a stare fall on your shoulders. One so oddly familiar and distinct. Turning revealed an impossibly tall man, broad shoulders, dressed in a stained mechanic's suit and a white mask. A bloodied knife in his hands. Fight or flight arose, steadying yourself to run, only for something particular to catch your eye. His knife. A large switchblade with a decorated handle, blue and black. One that used to settle in the hands of your best friend. "Michael?" You uttered under your breath.

He staggered when you unconsciously rose your bracelet. As if to rest if he'd remember it. And it worked, he didn't kill you. Though he certainly wasn't the Michael he was when you were kids, it didn't matter in the slightest. Despite every change, enough stayed the same to ignite the flame in your chest. You snuck him into your home, patched up wounds, and scrubbed away evidence. Managing to keep him safe under your roof even as he continued his rampage. You knew fully what he was doing. You didn't care. Not when you, out of all the people he'd killed mercilessly, you were the one allowed to wash his hair. Make him food, clean his suit, sharpen his knife. He allowed you to see his unmasked face, lean into his side with a movie playing, see the faint playful side that he swore he lost long ago.

But he was on the run, and with the continued homicides, people were bound to go poking around. One of them being a rather snoopy neighbor, a man who'd shown interest in your aloof nature. Mysterious, as he called it. He was pushy and never seemed to take a hint or a no. Hence how why he ended up in your house, allowing himself in despite your attempt to stop him at the door. Ruining a perfect night with Michael.

"You need to leave." You insisted again, gritted teeth and burning anger. "Oh relax, I'm just checking in on you! There's been a maniac going around stabbing people, you live all alone. Don't you want someone around to protect you?" It was more a statement than a genuine question. You clenched your fists and ground your teeth together. Anxiety high. Michael was still in the house, if this idiot saw him, it could mean the end of your peaceful moments with the man you'd built a life around. "I don't need anything from you. Get out." You repeated. Your neighbor scoffed a little laugh. Turning around casually. "Man, it's almost like you want to get murdered..." His voice trailed off and his shoulders tensed as his gaze fell on the Shape. Standing at the end of the hall. Mask and all. Your blood pressure rose with your adrenaline as the realization settled over your neighbor. It all went so quickly. Michael took a step forward and your neighbor turned to run. You did the same, but not for the same reason. The fool neared the front door only to be stopped by what you held in your hand. Having cut him off via using your kitchen. His throat landed right into a sharpened blade kept on the counter from dinner. Your heartbeat filled your ears as life left the man's body, sliding off the knife and falling back on the floor, face now permanently locked in a state of fear. You stood with shaky breaths and a tight grip on the knife. Slowly rising your gaze to look at Michael who stood in front of you, taking in what you'd just done. There was no guilt. He watched you take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Mikey, can you get rid of him? Far from here? I can't have the cops seeing anything like this near you..." You asked, voice a saccharine whisper. Michael raised his chin slightly before stepping forward. Like the man weighed nothing, he picked the corpse up and hoisted it over his shoulder. Your posture relaxed and you graced him with a smile. "I'll have brownies for you when you get back." This didn't change anything. He'd still have a safe place with you. No one would take him, not again. Not ever again.

The Problem Child; Bo Sinclair (An unassuming face, sadistic urges. An Actor.)

Out of all three Sinclairs, Beauregard was the one that left the most for his own wants. Lester had to leave for his job daily, but it was rare to catch him strolling through the neighboring cities just to enjoy himself. And of course, Vincent never left. Bo liked to stay in Ambrose but every once in and while it got stuffy. So heading off to a bar or small diner was what he usually did. A small moment to himself to enjoy himself. It was there that he met you. A new bartender at a small biker bar. With a shiny smile and a good sense of humor, he didn't see any reason he couldn't indulge in a bit of conversation with you. Turning up his charm and dusting away his secretive sadism. Of course, he was a little surprised when one day you wandered into town. He didn't notice until you entered his shop. He left the garage and saw you perched up on the counter, flipping through a magazine he knew he had hidden in his truck. Then again, he bought it in an average corner store, you could've just bought one of the same copy. You glanced up and gave him a smile. "Pleasure seein' you again, stranger. How's business been?" You asked charmingly. You didn't allow him to answer though. "Pretty slow probably, last person to come by was two weeks ago, yeah?" Bo blinked at the comment. It was true, but how you'd known that was beyond him. He shook it off as a fluke. "Yeah, you need somethin' done, sweetheart?" He questioned. You nodded. "Oil check and a new set of front tires. Weirdest thing happened, looks like someone jabbed at them. Crazy huh?" You replied. Bo swallowed and nodded. He mumbled something about you bringing your car around, a bit of a struggle with such low air in the back tires but you managed fine. Bo went into raising your car. He wasn't entirely sure why he was keeping up like he was actually going to fix your car. You were alone, it would've been easy to just deal with you now. Though, he supposed it wouldn't hurt keeping you alive a little longer. You were good with conversation. So, you made yourself comfortable seated on one of the tables in his garage. You kept up a conversation while flipping through that magazine, little mutterings about things that had been happening since he last showed up at the bar. As Bo went to take off your tires, propping the car up off the ground, you began speaking about the wax museum.

"It's really impressive, yeah? The entire building is wax. Not to mention in this heat? Your brother's got to be stressed trying to maintain it." You said. Bo paused and his shoulders tensed. He glanced behind him. "Pardon?" He asked, a suspicious glare falling over his face. You looked up from the crinkled pages with a calm smile. "Vincent's his name yeah? You two make quite the impressive duo, really. Gotta say though. I think your methods are a bit more favorable. Maybe that's just the gun though. Y'all been hurtin' for bases though. You can't seem to keep'em, huh? Just last week you had this pretty lil' red head so close to comin' home with ya." Your jovial tone and calm smile sent Bo on edge. Something rather difficult to do. His fist clenched around the X-wrench he held, patiently waiting for you to finish so he could just...whack you? Probably a poor plan but it was the best he had. "Honestly, I was surprised. But can't say I wasn't a lil' happy when she marched her happy ass away from you. Playin' hard to get and all? Annoying, right? Especially when I'm sure your brother could use her as a, hm, maybe a nun in the church? Or do you think she'd fit better as a cashier in the boutique?" You leaned forward a bit. Bo's eyebrow raised and his grip on the tool loosened a bit. Now more curious than on edge. You hummed at his lack of verbal response. Just then, a sound signaled from the back of your car, making Bo's gaze snap to it. He then glanced back at you with shock. You merely shrugged. "Eh, I'm sure you two can figure it out." Bo didn't respond to you as he popped the trunk. Barely conscious and bound, the redhead he'd failed to lure back to town. He looked back at you again as you picked up the magazine. "Oh, and by the way? The lock on your truck is a bit shotty on the back left door. Might wanna work on that." You added cheekily. After a moment to process everything that had just been laid out, Bo gave a little amused huff. He shut the trunk of your car and shook his head. "Darlin', you seem a bit off your rocker." He spoke. "Crazy even." You threw your hands up in mock surrender. "Only for you, big guy.~" The edge to your tone made his blood burn. He sighed and adjusted his hat. "Well if that's the case, maybe I can talk my brother into keepin' ya. After all, you've been a big help" He smirked at the way your pupils expanded. Bo was a playboy, he'd been able to charm just about anyone he wanted. But the crazier the person, the more fun it was.

#slasher x reader #slasher memes #slasher #slasher community #dead by daylight ghost #ghostface #dead by daylight ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #bo sinclair #house of wax #michael myers #halloween #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #dead by daylight #slasher fucker #yandere #rob zombie michael myers

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lukabitch · 1 year

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#dbd #dead by daylight x male reader #dbd x male reader #dbd ghostface #yandere dbd #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson #jed olsen #dbd ghostface x male reader #danny johnson x male reader #danny johnson x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader

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yandereloveraw · 7 months

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Xanny will occasionally leave you gifts near or inside of your residence. The gifts themselves are things he knows you like, like that jewelry piece you couldn't afford. Each is accompanied by a small note, signed with one of various nicknames: "Your secert admirer, your arcane guardian, your black knight," etc. He will also gift you pepper spray and a tazer if you don't own any, in case something happens when he's not around to protect you.

"I hate the thought of someone hurting you, so here. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Please be safe for me. <3," the note had read.

#my oc #my oc x y/n #my oc x genderneutral y/n #my oc x reader #male yandere #male yandere oc #yandere werewolf oc #dbd ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #minors please dni #oc headcanons #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gif belongs to the creator #protective male yandere oc #protective male yandere

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butterbabyflapjack · 7 months

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ＰＨＯＴＯＧＥＮＩＣ (18+)

*ೃ༄ Devilmask Ghostface x fem!reader

[ SUMMARY ]

You have the worst luck, don't you?

You finally meet a kinda witty, kinda clever, kinda handsome guy, and of course he turns out to be a serial murderer with a penchant for fucking with people's heads–especially yours.

From the moment you and Danny first unfortunately met, he can't seem to unwrap his mind from you, no matter how much he tells himself he wants to. You're somehow driving him insane, eating up his thoughts, distracting him...

He's going to have to do something about that.

Maybe have some fun reenacting all those lovely scenarios about you he can't stop envisioning inside his head.

Wherein you’re a photographer who somehow keeps running into the annoyingly hot journalist, Jed Olsen, whom you'd rather be avoiding. Meanwhile, Danny’s got some plans for you…

✧˖°Danny wears his red devil mask exclusively in this˖°✧

[ TAGS ] explicit sexual content, enemies to lovers, except you still hate him, banter, unwittingly flirting with a serial killer, but it’s not your fault cause he’s obnoxious and annoyingly sexy and somehow charming, degradation, praise, rough sex, mask kink, glove kink, voice kink, yandere, breaking and entering, bondage, stalking, dubcon, noncon, knifeplay, threats of violence, coerced sexual and non-sexual acts, Danny’s in his red devil mask exclusively, horror romance, darkfic, slow burn, graphic depictions of crime scenes, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, au!present day

❣️ read on ao3 ❣️

#danny johnson #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #dbd #dead by daylight #fanfiction #scream #devil mask ghostface #red devil ghostface #photogenic #slasher x reader #slasher smut

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diejager · 2 years

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Reminder : My blog contains dark/yandere content and have 18+ fanfics, so MDNI with NSFW fics. I also do fluff and angst. All my works are fiction : I don’t own any of the characters I write for; there might be triggering subjects - please see the warnings before reading. None of the gifs or visuals I use in my fics are mine.

Your consumption of media is your responsibility and yours alone.

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[dark, fluff, yandere, nsfw(*), angst, request]

[The Ghostface | Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson]

Bunny* | collection - d

A little bunny caught Ghostface’s attention, curiosity and eagerness has led him to play with you.

Run, Rabbit Run! Part 2 Part 3| mini-series - d,y

You were his only survivor; you were the reason he moved states so often; you were the reason he took up the knife; he wants you again.

Lil' Mouse* | d

Danny has a little obsession about the new survivor.

Still Alive* | d,y

You can't take it anymore, you had to run, flee from Ghostface.

Public sex* | d Riding* Giving Head* | r

[The Executioner | Pyramid Head]

Obsession | d,r Pairing: Yan!Micheal/Pyramid Head x surv!reader

You’re somehow the obsession of not one, but two different monsters.

[The Pig | Amanda Young]

buff reader | f,r

[The Skull Merchant | Adriana Imai]

Chiaroscuro | d,r

Your paintings seem to connect her to you. She’s thankful for this fate.

[The Oni | Kazan Yamaoka]

NSFW headcanon* | r,f

[The Trapper | Evan MacMilan]

NSFW headcanon* | r,f

[The Clown | Kenneth Chase alias Jeffrey Hawk]

NSFW Headcanon* | r,f,d

[The Shape | Micheal Myers]

Obsession | d,r Pairing: Yan!Micheal/Pyramid Head x surv!reader

You’re somehow the obsession of not one, but two different monsters.

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

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Yandere Billy & Stu pt. 2 (1/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

I twisted the faucet off, taking one final glance around the shop. No more cars would be rolling in during lunch since it was lunch break. It was always a pleasant time around the shop; not because I was lazy, but because my boss, Ralph, and I got along well. We were good friends. We always had lunch together and bantered and watched television. It was a nice, normal part of my day.

I went over to the small side office and invited myself right in. Ralph was already there, bald head and dad bod basking in its glory. He was already munching on a home-packed lunch his husband always made in the morning. He gave me a hearty, mouth-full grunt as I entered.

I sat myself in the seat across from him. A small smile stretched across my face as I reached for the bag my mom always packed for me. The television had yet to be turned on. Ralph was always polite and waited for me to join him. Ralph was nice.

“‘Afternoon, Ralph,” I greeted.

Ralph sent me a grin - I failed to point out the food stuck in his teeth - and replied, ”’Sup. You know, my kiddo’s picked up this new slang term. Sup or what’s up. She said there’s a difference and tried explaining it to me and everything, but it flew right over my head, you know?”

“Well, she didn’t explain it right,” I chuckled. “What’s up is a question. ‘Sup is a greeting.”

He pursed his lips. “Darn. This old brain of mine’s gonna forget that by three.”

He reached for the remote and turned it on. We both fell silent, waiting for the other to show interest. A crab documentary; the weather station; a live concert; a basketball match. I was about to pipe up and mention that the basketball match might be interesting, but Ralph automatically paused on the a news station with a ‘Breaking News’ transition rolling across the screen.

I noisily unwrapped my sandwich, eyes glued to the television. A man and a woman came on screen. Both tensely clutched a pile of papers in their hands. The woman started, ”Early this morning at five-thirty-three, there was a mass prison riot and breakout in one of California’s largest detention centers.”

The man continued, ”The police have yet to discover who was the man strategist, however, it was clear that almost half the prison was in on it.” Some images flashed on screen of the said prison. “Many dangerous criminals managed to escape.”

“Some of them included,” the woman listed, ”Scott Watson, Malcolm Rewa, Mark Lundy, and Peter Tyson. The police have inferred that many of them have either taken refuge in national parks or stole nearby cars.”

“If you have any information on these criminals–“ A long, scrolling list of names appeared on screen–”please tell your local police department immediately. The recapture of these criminals and the safety of the public is dire.”

My brain finally started connecting the dots. A California prison filled with dangerous criminals. Could Bi - they have been a part of the escapees?

Just the thought made my entire body grow numb. The sandwich fell out of my fingers and onto the table. I hardly noticed Ralph changing the channel.

“ -/n. You alright, kiddo?”

I jumped in my seat, breaking out of my trance. Unsurely, I replied, ”Uh, yeah.”

He flashed me another grin. “Hey, don’t worry about that, kiddo. W’re all the way up here in Nevada. It’s not like there’s a reason you’d be targeted, eh?”

“…Right. No, yeah, right.” I picked up my sandwich again.

“Not much on right now. Basketball‘ll have to do,” he conceded, switching the channel back.

A comfortable silence fell over us. I managed to finish the sandwich and was about to reach for my apple when the phone suddenly rang. Ralph reached over and picked it up.

“‘Ello?”

A few seconds later, he handed the phone to me. “It’s yer mom,” he said.

Worriedly, I took the phone. She never called me during work. With furrowed brows, I greeted, ”Hey, mom, what’s up?”

“Well, I. - I was just watching the news!” she cried, the distress in her voice obvious. “A California prison break! Those bastards were in some California prison. For all we knew, they could be out there now, aching to —“

“Mom! Mom, it’s okay,” I interrupted, trying to keep my voice steady. Although I had the exact same concerns, I had to keep level-headed. Mom hadn’t been doing well since the accident; she had to quit her job because of injuries and her mental health plummeted. She became even more paranoid and was a total shut-in now. That was fine and I understood, but it served as a permanent reminder of what happened back in Woodsboro. I wanted nothing more than to sweep the memories of that hell under a rug and pretend it never happened. “Listen, if it’ll calm your nerves, I’ll stop by the police after lunch and ask which prison they were detained in. Even if… they somehow escaped… there’s no way they could find us. Alright?”

By this point, Ralph looked incredibly concerned. He’d halted his eating and was listening to the conversation intently.

“Please, be safe, Y/n. I couldn’t live without you. Promise me - if they escaped, we have to move.”

“That’s a bit drastic —“

“Promise. Me.”

I bit my lip, sending Ralph an unsure glance. “Listen, we can talk about it when I get home. We might be totally overreacting, alright? You should relax, mom. Watch some Golden Girls reruns to let out some steam, okay?”

“…Fine. I love you, honey. Be safe.”

“I love you too, mom.”

I reached across the table and returned the phone to the receiver. All of my worries had been doubled. I know my mom wasn’t the most mentally stable, but she was also just as intelligent and ingenious.

I didn’t have time to think as Ralph spoke up, ”Is everything ‘right? I know your mom’s not doing too well right now, but… is there someone who escaped from that prison?”

I bit my lip and cast my gaze away. “Well… possibly. They’re the reason we moved in the first place and the reason why mom can’t work and all that shazam…”

Ralph frowned. “Listen, it’s a Wednesday afternoon. Nobody with a work life comes in for a repair on a Wednesday afternoon. How about you take it off and go check on your mom and everything? Don’t worry, it’ll be a paid absence. The shop’s doing well.”

My heart absolutely melted. “Are you sure? I’m more than happy to stay the rest of my shift, though.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah. Your mom and your health ‘s important. Think nothing of it, kiddo.”

I smiled. “Thank you so much, Ralph. This means the world to me. I promise this’ll be taken care of by tomorrow.” I packed up my lunch remains and trash and grabbed my other bag that was slung across the back of the seat. My actions were rushed, betraying my anxiety.

Ralph and I bid our good-byes and I rushed out of the car mechanics shop.

~~~

“Well, Miss L/n, you’re in luck,” the officer answered. “Our system takes a while to update, but it says here that they’re located in another California prison. The only way they could have been a part of the escape riot was if they were transferred in the last week. The system updates every week. If there’s any noticeable changes in their profile in a few days, I’ll give you a call.”

I let out a sigh of relief as my entire body filtered out the tenseness. I set the phone back on the receiver. Mom finally gave me some distance, as she had been hovering behind me the entire phone call. Her distress had shrank by multitudes, but I could sense that she was still worried.

“They - they must’ve been transferred in the last week, honey. We have to go —“

I grabbed her before she could rush away to another part of the tiny home. “Mom. I know the possibilities are scary. But they haven’t escaped,” I croaked. I was on the verge of tears not because of fear, but because I couldn’t help but mourn for the woman my mother used to be - strong, moving, and my protector. “Things are okay now. We have to let go and move on. Everything’s good now. You’re allowed to breathe.”

She jerked her hand away, scowling. Her hands gripped at her thin hair and she buckled over completely. She let out a mangled scream, shaking. “That’s not true. Please, Y/n, listen to me. The system hasn’t updated —“

“Mom,” I pleaded, grabbing her from behind and pulling her into a hug. “We’re okay. We’re fine.”

She turned and began sobbing into my shoulder. My heart ached, but I pulled her over to the small couch, sitting us both down. Her sobs were muffled in my sweatshirt. I let her drown in her sorrows, her nails digging into my back desperately. Oh, how my heart ached for the woman she once was. The woman who could climb Mount Everest without fear. The woman who could be attacked at work but survive the trauma.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she cried. “I should have spent more time with you. I should have protected you from those devils. I wish I could now. I’m nothing but a burden to you.”

“That’s not true, mom,” I sighed. “I love you. I know how you feel and why you feel this way. It’s scary. When you were in the hospital, and I was scared shitless —“

“Language.”

I let out a sudden laugh. “S - sorry, sorry… I just don’t want to lose you. And I won’t. We’re safe now. We’re not victims. They’re in prison and we’re free. We shouldn’t waste time worrying, or they’d just be smug about it.”

“I know you’re right. I just have a bad feeling about it all. I can’t shake it off…”

“It’s stress. It’s PTSD. But it’s not them. They’re locked away in a prison cell seething. Let them rot. But don’t let yourself rot.”

“But - your poor, poor friends. Sidney, that other girl, that boy… All of your classmates, dead,” she heaved. “It could’ve been you next.”

“But it wasn’t. And it won’t be. Mom, we’re alright now. I love you so, so much.”

“I - I love you too, honey.”

She pulled away, wiping her tears with trembling hands. “I… I should get started on dinner. You must be tired. How about you put on Jeopardy?”

“Yeah, no problem.” I squeezed her hand reassuringly one more time, letting her disappear into the small kitchen. I turned on the television and began flipping through the channels. Jeopardy was on.

~~~

I slung my purse over my shoulder just as knocking sounded from my front door. Mom was in the bathroom and I already told her I was going out with Sally and Purdue. I know that she never approved of them, saying they were shallow and uncouth, but… well, I agreed. We met at the local bar, which said enough about our friendship as it was. To say the least, it was the only place we hung out.

I pulled on my shoes and swung the door open. As expected, Sally was driving her expensive sports car that I’d actually worked on a few times. She was very irresponsible and very rich. Purdue had taken the passenger seat, the window rolled down. She was waving at me with her neatly pedicured hands.

I checked my purse for everything one more time before joining them. I slid into the back seat, slinging my arms around the front where Purdue was. She clasped my hands.

“I can’t believe that crazy mom of yours lets you go anywhere,” Sally complained. “My parents are even worse. No idea why. What is it with this generation’s parents being total clingy psychos?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re the reason this car has a permanent dent on its hood,” Purdue sneered.

“It was only a few times! Not my fault I was a little drunk.”

“It’s directly your fault your fault that you were a lot drunk,” I added. “I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you.”

“Ditto.”

Sally pouted and began driving. The local bar wasn’t too far away; it was only a few blocks’ drive, which is why after a night of drinking, I preferred to walk home, especially with Sally at the wheel. Purdue was at least a smidge more responsible than her.

When we entered the bar, we wasted no time warming up with shots. We spared no small talk; it hurt, but we all knew that we didn’t care enough to drawl to one another about our personal lives. ‘How was work?’ or ‘Have you gone on any dates recently?’ were questions that had not once passed any of our lips. It was alright, though; our mutual friendship served one purpose and one purpose only. We were drinking buddies.

“You know, that guy over there keeps looking at you.”

Sally and I peered over our shoulders. A few seats down the bar was a young man with straight black hair and tan skin. The way he held his glass displayed class and soberness, but his clothes were casual and made him blend in with the crowd of rednecks.

He was making eye contact with us - more so, with Sally. I looked back to my glass of bourbon, paying the man no heed. Sally, though, was seemingly entranced with the handsome stranger.

“Don’t tell me you thought he was looking at you for a second, did you, Y/n?” Purdue giggled, swatting my hand playfully from a seat away. Sally was sitting between us, but Purdue’s long arms and two inch nails scratched my skin.

Sally bit her lip, downing the rest of her beer. “God, and here I was, thinking that you two ugly bitches made me look so bad guys stopped being interested,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes at her drunken arrogance. “Well, from one ugly bitch to another, why don’t you go talk to him?” I recommended, waving at her dismissively.

Purdue nudged her shoulder. “Yeah, bitch. Go get yourself a man, why don’t you? The plastic surgery’s clearly done you some good.”

Sally gasped, feigning offense, but hopped out of her seat. Purdue and I watched eagerly as she strolled toward the mystery man. I ordered another round of drinks while we waited for the pair to stop flirting and join us again - if they would, that is. I noticed that every time I glanced over at them, though, the man’s glance shifted to me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. I could only hope Sally wasn’t making a fool of herself over there.

“Hey,” Purdue spoke up. “You’re quieter than usual.”

I shrugged. “Just home stress. Even alcohol can’t stop me from worrying about my mom.”

She tilted her head, scooting to sit next to me. “I mean… if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here. If you don’t mind me asking… What exactly is she so mental about? It’s like she’s completely looney. Doesn’t even work.”

I had to withhold myself from rolling my eyes. “She’s not looney. Just traumatized. Being stabbed in the abdomen and her only remaining family, aka me, almost dying to gore-obsessed psychos has left her scarred. We keep going in circles. Every week it’s like she’s brand new and recovered, and then all it takes is one thing - a glance at a knife, an open window, the ringing of our phone - to send her spiraling back into despair.”

I was surprised by Purdue’s affection as she squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be alright.”

I strained a smile. “Yeah. I know it is. It’s just hard to make her know it, too.”

The conversation dimmed once more. Our stares returned to the man and Sally. She confidently had her arm around his shoulders. I could tell by her mannerisms that she was attempting to pull him over to us. How thrilling, another stranger to join our midst.

The man rose to his feet while Sally eagerly clutched his arm and pulled him our direction. His gaze was glued to me as they approached. I sent him a glare, going back to my drink instead.

“Girls-s-s, this is Daniel,” Sally cheered. Purdue scooted closer to me as the pair sat down beside us. I yawned in reply while Purdue sent a cunning, seductive smile, placing her hand on Sally’s shoulder.

“Lovely to meet you, Daniel. A shame I didn’t beat her too it —“

“Shut the fuck up, girl. You’re the one who told me to get his ass over here,” Sally slurred. She was always the first one to get drunk. It baffled me how she could get all that after a couple of drinks.

Daniel grinned at us. “Hello. Daniel Johnson. You ladies having a fun night?”

“Woo-o-o, damn right we are, hottie —“

“Sorry about her,” Purdue interrupted, knocking Sally upside the head. “She’s a light drinker. I’m Purdue.”

“No, but I might need a ride home after this.”

Purdue and Daniel shook hands. I could feel Daniel's stare burning into the side of my head. I couldn’t help but down my drink.

“And who’s this pretty lady?”

Purdue smacked my arm, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Y/n, I know you’re a moody bitch but be nice. Sally’s one-night-stand’s trying to make small talk.”

I quirked a brow. “Well, you already know my name thanks to Purdue. Nice to meet you, Daniel. Well, not really, since your business isn’t with me.”

Purdue’s glare was burning my flesh, but I remained cool and composed. Sally, as though sensing the tenseness through her drunken state, suddenly slapped Daniel’s back. “Hey, be my one-night-stand. Let’s ditch these lo-o-osers.”

Daniel laughed, clutching her hand. “I barely know you, Sally. Besides, your friends seem nice. Y/n… Haven’t I heard that name from somewhere before?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can take my name and shove it up your ass —“

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Sally shouted, gaining the attention of some surrounding visitors. I cringed. Whenever we played truth or dare, it always went to hell. But two drunk girls are more stubborn than one half-sober one - and now, a creepy stranger -, so there’d be no reason to argue with them.

Purdue clasped her hands together. “Oh really? Fine then you hoe, you’re goin’ first. Truth or dare?”

“Only if you go next, girl. Dare, obviously,” Sally answered. “Give me, like, a hot one. I want to make out with this sexy guy.”

“You flatter me.”

There was something off about him. Maybe it was his composure, or maybe it was my mood. But he was at a bar, and he wasn’t flirty, light-hearted, or dead drunk. Who the hell came to a bar just to just be hot and mysterious anyways?

Purdue snickered. “Fine, fine. I’ll make your wish come true. Sorry, Danny, but this ugly toad’s going to make out with you now.”

Sally wasted no time, swinging her arms around Daniel’s neck and pulling him into a passionate, slobbery make-out session. He was exuding discomfort, and for a moment, I thought ‘same.’ Even Purdue and I exchanged knowing glances. Her conniving, toxic smiles weren’t directed at me anymore.

Daniel finally push Sally away. He had lipstick smears all over his face and he was quick to snatch a napkin and wipe his face. Sally had an irreplaceable grin. “Purdue, you’re doing a dare. I don’t even care. How about - how about…” She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. Y/n, bestie, help me out here!”

I hummed, placing my head in the palm of my hand. “Well, that dare was boring as fuck, and I know Purdue ain’t no pussy, so… Hey, how about you call that previous fling you had? Jordan, wasn’t it? Sound all depressed and sad and tell him that you miss him. The guy absolutely worshipped the ground you walked on.”

Purdue grinned. “You were supposed to give me a dare. Nothing would pleasure me more.”

She searched through her purse, eventually pulling out her clunky cell phone. She scanned her contacts before clicking on ‘creepy stalker sexy guy.’ She turns it speaker so that we could hear it ringing, even over the yelling drunkards surrounding us at the bar.

The thing was… I kind of wanted to wipe the memory out of my head. By the end of the phone call that went on way too long, I just ended up feeling bad for the guy. Purdue broke the man’s heart by leading up with fake flattering compliments and ‘I miss you’s just to laugh in his face and tell him he was only worth his dick.

Man, I was friends with assholes.

Purdue hung up, a sadistic and satisfied smile on her face. She turned to me again. “How fun. I always love it when I make a man cry.”

Daniel didn’t emote in the slightest while Sally was roaring with laughter clinging onto the man for dear life. I thought it was strange that even though us girls kept ordering drinks, he didn’t even touch one of ours, keeping completely sober.

Good on him… But that’s pretty shady.

“W - wait, it’s Y/n’s turn to go now! After that, there’s no way you wouldn’t do a dare, right girl? As long as you don’t make out with my man,” Sally encouraged, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Daniel’s nose scrunched. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss from a pretty girl.”

Both mine and Purdue’s jaws dropped while Sally was losing it in the way that drunk girls do. Limply beating his chest, she cursed at him before finally pushing away. She stumbled into Purdue’s arms instead, sobbing incoherently about how ‘u-ly bi-thes aw-ays tee her man.’ Now that was rather amusing.

“Well, Y/n, truth or dare?” Purdue sighed, Sally having passed out on her shoulder, even though she was still standing.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Daniel, you made her faint. I’m fucking tired, so… I’ll just go with a tru - truth.”

I regretted it instantly when Purdue, the sick bitch she was, developed a smirk. She suddenly pushed Sally over her and forced Daniel to catch her before she tumbled to the ground completely. Daniel was becoming obviously annoyed with every passing second, but we both knew he couldn’t abandon his night duty of keeping a drunk flirt from breaking a leg.

“Well, you know, I’ve always wondered… I’ve seen those two guys’ faces on the news. They’re both pretty cute.”

My stomach began to churn. She couldn’t mean… She wouldn’t go that far, would she?

“A simple question, really. Out of what’s-their-faces, Billy and Stu… who’s more fuckable? Like, I know they were murderers and everything, but they were your friends. No way in hell you didn’t have a wet dream about one of them before the whole almost-killing-you thing.”

I clenched my fist. My mind went blank. Daniel was staring at me, too, as though he’d finally recognized me. This was karma for setting that poor guy, Jordan, up, wasn’t it? But this humiliation was far, far worse. You’d think the woman, as cunning and clever as she was, would know when she was going too far.

“…Are you seriously asking me that?”

She waved her hand dismissively before pushing an entire bottle of beer toward me. “Answer or drink. You know the rules. Or are you too much of a pussy to be honest with your best friend?”

I chuckled dryly. “I guess I am. Bottle’s up.” I snatched the bottle, toasting. I went to drink, and Purdue looked oh-so disappointed.

Before the lid could meet my mouth, with one swish of the arm, I began pouring the bottle all over her. She let out a scream of fury, but I relished watching the alcohol stream down her caked face and staining her white cry top.

Calm and collected, not paying anyone else any heed and ignoring Purdue’s screaming in my ear, I grabbed my purse and walked away.

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the-yandere-cryptid · 2 years

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If you are still taking requests for the whump prompts, could I have "Oh you're sooooo flinchy today. It's like you've never seen a knife before." for ghostface?

heres a request for ya! can I get a uh..... Ghostface degradation drabble? maybe some choking or whatever else ur feeling up to hehe pls n thank u💕

ayoooo

Ghostface:

It felt…silly developing a sense of trauma in this place. Every waking moment was a nightmare, every trial a guarantee of pain to come, yet some moments still stuck in your mind more than others, making you flinch and swallow and make all the fear responses that had otherwise been long squeezed out of you. After a disturbingly long trial with the Legion, where he had dug his knife into your side and left you to bleed and deal with a slow-mounting infection for hours, you were finding yourself queasy against…knives. The only thing in this place that was less avoidable than trees and walls, arguably the least terrifying weapon in the arsenal of torture devices brandished by the Killers, and you were starting to let them terrify you again. Stupid. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that thought so.

“You’re so flinchy today,” Ghostface commented, emphasizing his point by burying his knife in the dirt in front of your face. Even with his hand pinning your head to the ground you still tried to recoil from the blade, images of dripping innards and infected skin flashing before your eyes. You saw that ugly mask tilt out of the corner of your eye. “It’s like you’ve never seen a knife before.”

“Had a bad trial,” you explained wheezily, knowing it would do you no good. Ghostface didn’t care about your ordeals in this place; he’d sooner use any information you offer against you than give you even a lick of sympathy. He pulled his blade back out and wiped the dirt off on your shirt.

“As opposed to all the good ones, right?” he teased, pressing the dull side of the blade on top of your shirt and running it down your spine. You swallowed your jitters and tried to preserve at least a crumb of the dignity he insisted on stealing from you every trial you both shared. “Look, I’m not complaining. You were starting to get a little, eh, indifferent there.”

You gagged involuntarily, turning your eyes to the ground so you didn’t have to look at the bastard anymore. He laughed and took his hand off your head, grabbing you by the hood of your jacket instead. For a moment he tucked away his sadistic, monstrous self and addressed you in a low voice normally reserved for intimacy. “You know how I am. I like it when you squirm, baby.”

“Fuuuck you,” you spat. You hated when he used the sweet talk voice, and it was for that exact reason you heard it almost every trial.

“You know what? I’m feeling nice,” he purred in that same sickening timbre. He grabbed and forced you onto your back, and when he straddled you again he slid his knife into a sheath concealed somewhere beneath his robes. He held both hands up to you, showing you definitively how empty they were. “No knife.”

You squinted, utterly certain he had a devilish grin on underneath that mask. ‘Nice’ wasn’t in his lexicon. Sure enough, he immediately brought those empty hands down to wrap around your throat, thumbs expertly finding your jugulars and the rest of his fingers digging into your tender flesh. “I’ll just kill you with my hands instead.”

His thumbs constricted around your airway like pliers, speaking over your choked sputters with that infuriatingly soft voice. “More intimate that way.”

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #dead by daylight #jed olsen #yandere scribbles #choking

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wickedyan · 3 years

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Got anything percolating for Ghostface perchance?

A/n: GOD,,,, Danny is genuinly my best boy... lemme info dump about him. A lot of this is nsfw sorry this took forever i was afraid of doing him dirty and ruining him... but i think i did ok

Tags: nsfw, canon-violence and obsessive behaviour, blood n vague gore, cunnilingus, cuckolding, panty sniffing AGAIN because i have no limits. enjoy

Danny is the classic obsessive. It almost doesn't matter why or how he became obsessed with you. All that matters now is surviving his obsession.

He’s a serial killer with a love of mischief. He likes the challenge of hunting you down, stalking you and memorising your routine, your relationships, what you eat in a day, the layout of your house… you name it and it's in his journal.

It's very incriminating to keep a journal about the person you plan on murdering, but like I said, Danny likes the thrill of being caught.

He’s gonna stalk you, he’s gonna memorise everything about you, hes gonna tie you up, fuck you, then murder you. It’ll happen eventually.

In the entity’s realm, it’ll be a little different. He would do everything the same, but over and over again. When you eventually lose your fight, he might get bored of you. But should you develop stockholm… Well, this is interesting isn't it?

You’re just so cute, squirming in his grip while he brings you into the Thompson house for a little bit of privacy, crying when he carves his name into your ribs and screaming as he slits your throat and captures it all on camera.

Please meet him in the clearing just beyond the campfire, please beg him to leave you alone, tell him you’ll do anything. He’d love to make a deal with you. It's okay if you say no though, it's a win-win situation for him. Either he gets to do whatever he wants with you, or he lets you escape through hatch a few more times than usual and in return, his dick wet.

He wants company in this realm. Usually he’s a lone wolf, couldn’t afford anyone getting too attached to him in his old life, too easy for the police to connect the dots that way.

But now? Oh it’s lonely, and he wants a little plaything to make his time in the Entity’s realm more interesting. A little fun wouldn’t hurt right?

He’ll make you think you have a say in what’s happening to you, make a few deals, make you think you’ve escaped his grasp. But he’ll never let you go, once you’re his, you’re his. He’ll let the other killers get away with sacrificing you, nothing he can do about that, it’s what She wants.

Anyone tries to Mori you, however. Game over. He’s not Her favourite for nothing. You’re his, he will not let you forget it, the possessive thing he is.

Speaking of possessiveness, totally steals your underwear and keeps it in his pocket. He’s disgusting and sniffs it before a match to get his blood pumping.

Do not expect gentle when you’re dealing with Danny. He will get what he wants and leave you unsatisfied and bleeding excessively if its what he desires. Though, if you don't want to cum, he’ll make you cum over and over again until you’re sobbing, oversensitive and twitching all over, should the Entity let him. He’s a sucker like that.

King of cunnilingus, the tongue piercing that the entire fandom claims he has is always massaging your clit and your sensitive nipples.

King of bite marks too. Will leave you COVERED in hickies. It's childish and immature but he does not give a shit. Will also carve his name into you as many times as he needs to, to get it in your head that you belong to him.

If you misbehave, he’s not above letting someone else have a turn at fucking you (roughly and with no prep) just to have you crying and snuggling into his arms. He wants this, will do it even if you’re good tbh. Bastard man. Rubbing at your hips and kissing your forehead.

LOVES leaving you high and dry before a trial. Wants your legs shaking while you repair a generator. Wants your nipples hard through the thin fabric of your shirt and your panties soaked through. Lives for your embarrassment. Thinks it's hot when you cry to him when you finish. Might let you cum as a reward.

Generally just a bastard man that wants you ruined. Very feral, do not recommend.

#dead by daylight #dbd #the ghostface #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #danny jed olsen johnson #dead by daylight x reader #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #yandere dbd #yandere ghostface #yandere dbd x reader #yandere asks #anon asks #yandere scenario

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dominantslasherking · 2 years

Note

Power bottom Danny Johnson 👀

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen with Dominant Slasher!Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

"Running won't get you farrr!~" Ghostface purred out to the running survivor, the survivor suddenly slammed into a hard surface, which was your chest, you towered over the survivor and gripped her by her shoulders.

"Told you!" He laughed plunging his knife into the survivor's chest as she screamed out in pain. Danny watched as you carelessly let the dead body flop onto the floor.

"(Name) Right? I really haven't introduced myself I'm Ghostface, but you can call me Danny or Jed, hot stuff." He gave a little wave in front of your face, as he looked up at you.

"Hello..." Your quiet voice echoed into his ears, "Wow~ Nice voice, it's pretty deep, I'd say I'm jealous!" Danny pouted under his mask.

Danny observed you and then looked at the disappearing body, "Typically other killers wouldn't think twice about stealing my kills..." If you could see Danny's smile under his mask it would rival the Cheshire cat.

"I like you." Danny laughed as he suddenly clung to your shoulder, "You seem very strong too....hmm, would you like to help me catch other survivors?" Danny watched as you nodded your head

<<>><>><>>><>>><<<<<>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>>><<<>>>><<<<<<<>>>>>><>>>

Currently resting, at the killer's base was normal, typically a lot of other slashers would interact with you, but not as much as Danny aka Ghostface would hang around you and interact.

It's also quite obvious of his attraction towards you these past weeks, he would get extremely jealous and possessive when a slasher got too close he would then act like nothing happened and go back to shamelessly flirting with you. He would also go out of his way, to make sure he was your only partner when you went out hunting.

"Hey, (Name?)" Danny questioned, twirling his knife around, "We are madly in love right?" He slowly slipped his mask off revealing his handsome features. Danny ruffled his black messy hair and stared at you with his black eyes.

"Kidding, Kidding---Unless you don't want me to be?" Danny quickly rushed over to you and slipped off your own mask. "Ah~ I knew you were a handsome one!"

Danny traced your lips, with his thumb as he suddenly jumped up, and wrapped his legs around your waist, his hands resting on your shoulders as he brought you into a sloppy and messy kiss.

Breaking out of the kiss, he caught his breath and started to laugh, "You know, I've actually admired you for a long time, so when you helped me catch the stupid survivor I think I was high with happiness." He confessed, knowing that you were a very quiet killer, but he didn't expect you to respond.

"Cute..." You whispered in his ear, causing him to flare up in arousal knowing that he wanted you to devour him whole, even if he had to take the lead.

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apollodarling-writes · 6 months

Text

yan! dbd ghostface (danny johnson) headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— yan! ghostface who loooves everything about you <33

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crazyracooneatsyourbrain · 2 years

Text

Ghost for Christmas

Ok, it's my first story on tumblr, and I know what it's sucks. Also, wanted to add what English - is not my native language. If i have any mistakes (and i know there are many) just tell me about them.

Summary:

He was funny, a little scary, but still your favorite toy. A cute little man in a black cloak, with a ghost mask on a doll's face. You adored him. You played with him all your childhood, but when you grew up ... well, every, even the most magical childhood comes to an end. The end has come for Danny too. But, in a moment of loneliness, you wished a friend for Christmas. And it had to happen that your ridiculous wish would come true. You got a friend. And from this friendship, you have nowhere to go...

Prologue: Worst Christmas Ever and Weird Desires

It was Christmas night, when snow covered the streets from the ground to the roofs of even the tallest houses. In the neighboring houses, lamps were burning, and the lights from the Christmas trees were shining. In the darkness of the room, the lights were softly danced from candles - not electronic ones on batteries, but real ones - wax ones. Y/N reached out. Bones ached after an almost sleepless night. She managed to fall asleep only towards morning, but even then, her dreams were restless, gloomy. Sighing wearily, the girl went to the tree, straightening the garlands. The loneliness that filled her home was depressing. The girl didn’t have any strength for the upcoming holiday, she didn’t have a desire to simply exist. Y/N sighed wearily. There was no that magical mystery enveloping this event, there was no family or friends nearby. Perhaps she made the mistake of going so far away from loved ones? With a slight grin, Y/N looked out the window. A young couple was walking tightly holding hands along the street. The girl knew them well - they were young husband and wife. They walked side by side, smiling. The young woman held onto her rounded belly softly. What month is she? On the sixth? Y/N was of little interest. Sniffing, she walked into the kitchen. There was a box of orange juice on the table. Open and almost empty. After taking a few sips of juice, the girl threw the box into the trash bin that stood by the sink. The box fell inches from the trash can, bright orange droplets splattering onto the floor. Back in the living room, she turned on the TV. These were funny children's cartoons - bright and funny, exactly the ones that are usually shown on Christmas on almost all children's channels. A strong wind was blowing outside the window. Bare trees bent down to the ground, snow fell in fluffy flakes to the ground.

Looking back at the tree in the living room, Y/N remembered how ten years ago, when she was only eight, she found a toy under the tree that she had never parted with for almost all her childhood. It was a miniature man, in a black cloak and a plastic knife in a tiny handle. This gift was intended for her younger brother, but she liked it so much that the girl was not ready to let go of it for a second. The younger brother, instead of his puppet man, got her brand new tablet. These memories have always warmed her heart, and now, when she is forced to celebrate her once favorite holiday alone, Y/N frowned. She quickly walked into her room, lay down on the cold floor on her stomach next to the bed, and pulled out a heavy box filled with all sorts of rubbish. Throwing all the contents on the floor, she began to disassemble things that before, in childhood, seemed necessary, without which life lost all sorts of colors and faded. Now, these things seemed on the contrary, completely unnecessary, almost useless, except that it was a memory. Her childhood memories. Crossing her legs, she took in her hands the same plastic man that until now, after so many years, was intact. It was dusty and scratched, but also fine. Despite the fact that there were many heavy things in the box that could accidentally crush and break it, it was almost like new. Leaving most of the things lying on the floor, deciding for herself that she would clean everything up later, Y / N went into the living room. Placing on the table a toy man whom she affectionately called "Danny" that very day, ten years ago, the girl laughed to herself.

- At least, - she said, - I’m not going to celebrate Christmas alone, right?

Danny did not answer, still gripping the handle of his plastic knife as tightly and as it might seem at first glance "frightening". The girl, however, gently stroked the toy man on the tiny head, took out champagne from the refrigerator. Pouring champagne into a glass, the bubbles popping playfully and flying in different directions, Y / N sat down in a chair across from Danny. Raising a glass in her hand, so not neatly that she almost spilled its contents on herself, the girl smiled.

- You know, I wish I had such a friend as you were in childhood. - The corners of her lips sank down. The smile disappeared from her face, after which, she drained the glass in one gulp, and now from what then looked disgustedly at the toy standing in front of her. The plastic mask on it at once seemed to her disgustingly ugly. And "Danny" himself now did not seem to her as wonderful as he was in childhood. Taking the toy "Danny" in her hand, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. - So silly...

She said, tossing the plastic figurine to the floor. The knife that he was holding in his hand jumped out, flew off somewhere to the side, got lost under the table. "It's time for you to grow up already." She heard in her head the voice of her brother, who was clever beyond his years. "Danny" did not interest him even when her brother was very young, let alone today, when Marcus became a handsome stately guy. Back in her room, Y / N lay down on the bed, covering her head with a thick blanket. Closing her eyes, she thought that she was missing that Christmas fun, noisy but friendly family arguments, and Mom’s delicious dishes. "You're right Marcus," - she thought before falling asleep completely, - "I really need to grow up."

part 1

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #fem!reader #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #yandere #christmas #au #ghostface #ghostface x reader

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