slasherwhxre

[slasherwhxre]

Do you write for characters not listed on your masterlist? I was wondering mainly about other DBD killers like The Deathslinger, The Wraith, The Skull Merchant, and The Knight?

absolutely! they're not the most popular hence why I have not written about them yet but I love all killers. I wouldn't mind writing about them if I receive a request or get an idea.

#dbd fanfic #dead by daylight #dead by daylight fanfiction #the deathslinger #the wraith #the knight #the skull merchant #reqs open

[slasherwhxre]

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR PT3 Of “catching feelings for you” with Frank 😭😭😭 I loved it so much

oh what the hell. you got it bb <3 side note, is this still a reaction?.. who knows honestly, i enjoyed writing it.

Masterlist

DbD Killers' Reaction to: Catching Feelings for You, pt. 3

|| Characters: just Frank Morrison (as requested)

words: 1k (could've been way more tho)

[pt. 1] | [pt. 2] | [pt. 3] (here)

Frank half-masterminded a way to go about his problem, particularly about this so-called crush. He didn't know whether to feel mad at fuckface Ghost for putting it on his mind or at himself for thinking of you in the first place.

He had a plan of sorts. Well, it was in the works, kinda.

Okay, not a plan, no, though others would sure as hell label it as one, which is why he had kept it to himself. This was no doubt annoying.

Of course, that and.. the near constant awareness of having so much as an operation specifically designed for you awakened another level of disgust inside him.

Frank would get over it.

He just needed some blood to wash it off of his mind.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't happen.

Frank had tried. Was it his best?

Nah. No comment.

"So..," came a greeting and continued, "This is a first," all before he could even reply with 'Fucking tell me about it'.

The young woman in front of Frank had her arms crossed, she had a hidden mix of actual surprise in her sarcastic tone, "Guessing you didn't do so hot."

Frank exhaled, disappointment in himself apparent, "Jules." It meant don't start.

"Oh, hey," said another lively voice. Frank groaned inside for once. How great, here comes yet another unnecessary sack of flesh to make a comment on his misery. A most sincere welcome-back congregation this had turned out to be. This is way more fucking new, he thought to himself. "Hey." "You're.. uh, very clean." Suzy hesitated before voicing what she saw. Well. Clean.. as I ever will be, Frank peered down at his jacket.

The lack of survivor blood, or muck, or just... whatever dirt Entity World had on it was equally disturbing, as you in his mind.

"Focusing on a bitch when you can be killing bitches is unlike you," said a deeper voice. Voila. Now they had done it. He was annoyed times two. "Cut off my back."

Frank saw his crew look at each other with a concoction of amusement and confusion before focusing on him once more. Then followed the reactions.

"What?"

"You okay there, buddy?"

"I mean, if you insist."

The twice-as-annoyed and now even can be considered disgruntled man facepalmed, hard. He palmed some of his exposed hair in streas. It seems 'crush on the mind' was already costing him brain cells, so what's a few more?

"Urgh, I clearly meant to say, get off my back or cut me some slack. I don't know. Fuck me. Leave me alone." This must have been the definition of sheepish. On top of it all he had just contradicted his own words by taking a step inside the shack.

I'll leave first, whatever, he had intended, at least, but an unwelcome, however unsurprising, voice made him stop, accompanied by a not-so-genuine-sounding slow clap. It came from above. I'll. Just. Walk. Away.

Nope.

"Wow, wow, wow..." Oh, what fucking now? Frank held back the desire to shout.

"Our own little Frankie.. dazed by his newfound love. I can't believe it."

Love? You're fucking crazy.

And so am I. It's just a survivor that doesn't even fucking know you, and the fact that the words that came out of this motherfucker's mouth didn't feel all that unnatural is absolutely fucking insane, I will-

Frank ceased his derailing.

He put on a not-so-bothered-at-least-in-front-of-the-enemy act and gazed at the tree.

"Fuck are you doing here?" he barked to a pair of dark and muddy boots, who then decided it was a perfect time to jump down and make his presence known, like he hadn't done so already.

"Oh, me?" Ghostface pointed his thumb towards his masked face in an exaggerated manner, "Well, I just came by to say that that was truly embarrassing, even for you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, but you already know." Danny tilted his head while checking out his nails nonchalantly, "It's just kinda interesting that you're making us know too. My sincerest thanks."

"You're not a part of this."

Danny looked up at the four. "Oh no? I don't see a lot of backlash." Needless to say, his confidence got on head Legion's nerves. "Take a vote."

Silence.

Frank didn't need to look to his left, right or back to know they were enjoying his antics, so he didn't bother. This was remarkably tipping his anger to the limit and his members watching this interaction go down wasn't helping. "How about.. you take a hint instead?" Fuck. That was all he could muster. Ghostface more like FrustratingFace, fuck thank God I didn't say that.

"Hint? Hint that you get your rocks off to the newbie? Oh, Frankie-"

"Call me that again-"

"Even the Entity must fucking know." Danny's tone took a sharp turn to ice-cold. It made something known to Frank's mind. Oh. So that's why...

"Yeah." Danny put on strong emphasis. Frank's silence had given the dawning of realization away, "That's what's up, dummy. The entity sees everything. There's no way it'll put you on a trial with the newbie if you keep letting livestock get away from you, will it, Mr. Wolf? I mean, just use your head a bit." Frank tuned him out as he went on about how the Entity couldn't go hungry like a little baby. He wasn't that dumb. Sure, he was dumber now that you preoccupied most of his empty-mind, but Danny had already made his point.

Kill you.

He had to kill you the next time he saw you. And he hoped to whatever God that was out there that he wasn't too attracted to you to stick his knife right in your heart.

Nah, he wasn't. But maybe he could take care of both of his problems? Two birds with one stone. Meh. One knife, one love. He'd figure it out.

pt. 4? 👀

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd fanfic #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #dbd frank #dbd legion #the legion x reader #ghostface

[slasherwhxre]

Just a quick question. Did you delete Intentions? I had it reblogged and I was gonna reread it but when I hit read more it says no post found. If you meant to delete it then no worries but if not I wanted to call attention to it. It was one of my favorites to read :(

Aw, I made Intenions private a while ago just to get a few more chapters in but to be honest, I just didn't think it was all that to begin with. Means a lot to me to hear this however, so here it is, link in case you can't locate it. :)

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #fanfiction #the legion dbd #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader

[slasherwhxre]

sorry I haven't been posting. midterms are fucking me

#dbd meme #silent hill #pyramid head #dead by daylight

[slasherwhxre]

Fluff n Slash

in which Jason gets a nice, relaxing massage.

requested by @vexelier-suix-cipher!

Michael Myers (soon) | Bubba Sawyer (soon) | Jason Voorhees (here)

words: 2.5k

Summers were always bittersweet.

Jason's birthday was around the corner, but so were careless counselors, getting ready to spend the rest of their lives in Camp Blood, which was admittedly not long. Yet, they deserved if not all, most of what would happen to them. Going against every piece of advice and ignoring history on the way over to their final resting place — if one could even describe it as that — was not as difficult as learning the consequences of their carelessness.

But of course, that was the very essence of his existence now. Getting rid of bad people, also known as endlessly obeying and avenging his mother. This time was slightly different from the past instances, of course.

The change had been you, who, unlike the unwanted guests of Camp Crystal Lake, had wanted nothing but the best for Jason, and fortunately, very fortunately so, he had quickly — quicker than you expected at least — had come to understand that. Who else waited for him to return day after day, as patiently as humanely possible, after all? Well, the head of his mom did, but that was not quite the same, even he knew that.

Still, one wondered Why?

In the beginning, Jason asked himself this question countless times. He spent many moments questioning not only your character and just what you were capable of — which, not to mention, was little to nothing compared to him — but also why you wanted anything to do with him. 

The coast was clear from what he could sense. Your actions couldn't be further away from nefarious, yet Jason had been fooled the exact same way many times before — people were so fake, so deceiving, dirty — which lead him to never let his guard down around you initially. Slow and as steady as it can be, he came to know your personality, he found out if you were truly who you said you were, your motives, understand your reasoning for wanting to be here with him while keeping caution to the utmost levels all throughout. 

Needless to say, the time-consuming progress that came with trusting someone was a lot of work, but that didn't matter. You'd do anything to spend time with him because while it was definitely not news to you that Jason's presence stroke fear into people, and you weren't people.

Then it happened, you had more than proven to Jason at last that you actually meant no harm, even if the same couldn't be said about the resident of the only permanent resident of Camp Crystal Lake, not yet at least. 

Awaiting his safe and sound homecoming was a difficult situation and often a worrisome mindset to be in occasionally, yet always worth it afterwards. "You're strong, I know you are, Jason, but I still worry." He looked down at his own body, to check if he was indeed injured. He looked the same as he always was. See, not a scratch. 

Relaxing with him in the evening and talking about your day — even if he didn't talk back intrinsically — entertained you both. And technically, he'd tell you about his days too, it just didn't happen to be the usual chatting you'd expect from others. There was a bit of a workaround to converse, but all the effort you put in to think of him meant the world to him. "Saw any animals today?" Jason gave an enthusiastic nod. "Was it a deer?" The yes-no questions hadn't failed either of you so far, plus it felt good to share, like a weight taken off his chest.

To your dismay, Jason's company never lasted the full duration of the night. You knew that he had things to do, yet the awareness unfortunately didn't make you any less lonely, and you embarrassingly lost control over your sleeping schedule. Who could blame you? The bed wasn't as warm and comfortable without him taking up space next to you or under you. As expected, you missed drifting away to sleep, accompanied by his huge body close by and soft snores filling your ears.

The frequent screams that filled the deep, thick woods under the moonlight were unsurprisingly of lacking comfort. If it wasn't for that tiny amount of relief, you'd always be unwillingly pulling all-nighters. Thankfully, the shrieks did soothe your concerns, the ones that made you panic, thinking he was somehow the one being hurt instead. Regardless, the amount of faith you put in him never budged. You'll always come up on top, Jason, there's nothing you can't do that you put your mind to, believe that. Jason didn't particularly need a reminder, but the encouragement went further than you could ever fathom.

While the support was appreciated by Jason, you had reacted rather peculiarly to your temporary separation. It was already established that you were far from selfish, perhaps too much of the opposite in fact, but this new result had took it another step forward. Mixed, darker feelings arouse deep in your heart and you couldn't stop them from forming. These stemmed from mostly wholesome means, such as wanting to have him to yourself more often. The thoughts itself were less innocent in nature. You began wishing you could lend Jason a personal hand in his pursuits. However, Jason was more or less reasonable for his kills and you knew no matter what, you just couldn't get involved in that line of work.

It wouldn't only be morally wrong — even more than dating a murderer — it was simply off limits, for first of all, there was no possibility that he'd let you. Jason had limited means to communicate, but shaking his head from left to right and back aggressively and holding onto your hands tightly like you'd slip away if he let go for even a millisecond did get the message across. "I just want to take the stress out of your shoulders, whatever amount I can take.."

Jason's body was less stable at that, slightly swaying in every direction at once, nearly trembling as his eyes glistened. Stepping in to do his work was just a no go, taking lives for Jason would never happen in a million years. His mother had done it for him previously, and it hadn't ended well, more specifically, it had ended with her severed and rotten head, in possession of her dear son. You dropped it right then and apologized, guilty at the fact that the idea of you helping him had distressed him to the point of tears threatening to roll down his puppy-like, begging eyes.

Notwithstanding, the part of you that wanted to be more useful to him in his 'hardships' persisted as your heart innately grew fonder. Absence sucked, so did realizing the saying couldn't be more painfully true, at least when it came to the certain big, murderous man you loved.

Waking up not just alone but lonelier than typical one day much thanks to the shittiest and shortest nap you must've ever taken in your life, your mind went to Jason before your eyes were even fully awake. Mid-day, it must've been. The warm sunlight shone inside, brightening the shared cabin with a cozier than anticipated gleam.

Your body ached as you turned, a side effect of lovely sleep deprivation. A toe-curling massage sounded virtually as good as seeing Jason again, but he probably needed it more than you. I wish he was here. The acquired grogginess from the brief rest you had was not enough to wash away your longing. If someone had told you you'd miss snuggling with a killer, you'd have laughed it off but here you were, laying on his bed like you have been for days, without him.

Disappointment and sleep threatened to take over as a yawn escaped you. Deciding to sit up for a stretch, your eyes went searching around the room out of habit. The outcome was a sad sigh. You forced yourself up, getting ready to step outside for a moment of hopefully peace. After just two steps, the worn knob of the wooden door started rattling.

"Jason?"

Miraculously, it was him, although he appeared more tired than you've ever caught him. The attemp to keep your calm had worked against the excitement of Jason's long-awaited retreat to you two's living quarters as you beamed the greeting. "Hey, sweetheart,"

A win-win, really, since you'd have him with you and he'd say goodbye to the tensed up muscles acquired from chasing down prey.

Jason gave a slight nod as a response. While at the very least a proper answer for many, you felt it was oddly unlike him at best. He must've been exhausted to no degree for his eyes to not light up at his favorite way of being called., as affectionate as it was, it was also spot on, for Jason did have a sweet heart. Every drop of blood he had spilled had been in the name of Pamela.

"You okay, honey?"

Jason shook his head.

Hearing the concern in your tone made him feel worse than he was already feeling and his shoulders slumped.

Jason's gaze followed after his spirits and moved down, in a stance similar to one took while moping.

As adorable as the sight was for your tall and strong man — when was Jason not cute anyway, his child-like reactions to nearly everything never failed to inspire great affection in you — you cared about him too much to not do something about it. Especially your thing. First, you'd learn about what troubled him, if you could.

"What's the matter?" It didn't matter if you were most likely aware of the problem, the words left your mouth with worry all the same.

Jason pointed a finger in the direction.

This year's damn campers, of course, you thought, hidden away with various landmarks of nature.

"They've been stressing you out, aren't they?"

Jason nodded to confirm your suspicions.

"Oh, babyboy," You exhaled, putting one comforting hand on his shoulder while the other went to caress his cheek.

Even if no contact to his skin had been made, Jason appreciated the thought as he closed his eyes to take in your love.

Just then, though, a car with the loudest tires and music passed by, putting an abrupt end to the intimate moment. While the vehicle hadn't come anywhere close to his cabin, the blaring, awful TOP 40 song it spewed was deafening.

People were even rowdier than usual and troubling him furthermore, as you understood.

Regardless, nothing could make you doubt your lover for even a second. No matter Jason's mood, they'd get their comeuppance soon enough, especially if you could help him secure the kill further.

However, even your undying faith was not enough to not grab Jason's hand and drag him to the temporary shelter of the rude newcomers — if you even had the strength — and tell them to fucking leave. If only it could be as successful as it was tempting, but alas, the option of sending them away was neither up to you nor in your power.

That's it, you decided.

Jason mourned the loss of them as you took your hands back. Until you pulled his hand, he perked up then, quickly realizing he shouldn't have been so quick to be disappointed.

"C'mon, hon," You lead him to the comfiest seat in the house, "Let me help you de-stress."

Jason had no idea how you were supposed to do taht, but damned if he didn't trust you to not hurt him. A cuddle, maybe it was, since you were taking him to the bed?

He had a suspicion he had guessed wrong when you asked him to lay on his stomach instead. Did you want him to sleep? He wouldn't say no, but why hadn't you just said so?

Apparently that wasn't it either because you you straddled his back. Luckily, with how strong Jason was, putting down your weight was of no importance.

Even though he was not exactly full of energy at the moment, Jason's mind went to dirtier places. If that's where it was going, he was going to let you take the lead, no questions asked, even if he could.

"I'm just going to make your shoulders feel better, okay?" You explained, making sure it was alright. Jason was disappointed for a moment, but quickly realized this was something even more new to him which successfully got him excited again.

It meant a lot you would still ask him even when he hadn't protested one bit. He'd never try to, Jason loved you nearly as much as his mother, ever so grateful for your thoughtfulness, more than you could ever fathom. It did suck a little how he couldn't show his appreciation for you like any other person, he still cherished you, trusted you with his life.

And he knew his decision had served him well when you began rubbing his shoulders. The sensation was nothing like he experienced, Jason wasn't sure if he even knew the words to describe it but oh it was so wonderful.

His shoulder blades were somehow even tenser than you previously guessed and almost too soon, Jason began to relax.

"Feel good?"

Good? Good would be far behind this, Jason knew that much before giving a delayed nod. Cute, it truly was, felt too good he forgot to respond, eh?

He was in for a ride if he considered the slightest touch as amazingly good, and boy did he consider it just that.

Slowly, you started cranking up the pressure, not neglecting even his neck.

You wanted to tell him that he could take his mask off, if he wanted, but the experience was still fresh and maybe that'd happen the next time, if it ever happened. From the looks of it, it certainly would.

"Like it so far?"

Replying late at first must have embarrassed him a tiny bit because Jason answered with a fast, eager nod this time.

Cutie. You held back a giggle in case he misunderstood you, this man was going to be the end of you with just how endearing he was.

And it turns out kneading his joints to relieve his body would be the end of him, for at least a few hours.

Jason had relaxed a bit more than he wanted to after deciding to close his eyes for a bit but it wasn't all his fault. You had paid no attention to the silence, taking his slow breaths as content. It only occurred to you that he had fallen asleep when he didn't reply to your second "Still nice?"

Too relaxed, huh, you smiled. Precious. He was so precious.

"Sleep well, Jason."

Who knew massaging a strong back like his was really nice? Well, you, now.

You crawled next to him. Part of you wanted to peck his head, but it wasn't worth waking him up for.

It was the best sleep you had in days when you dozed off next to him. So good that you hadn't even realized when he got up and stared at you lovingly, before leaving again for the night.

#jason voorhees #friday the 13th #slasher #fanfiction #fluff #horror #jason vorhees x reader #x reader #fanfic #fic

[slasherwhxre]

DbD Killers: Pursuing You

Character(s): Jiwoon Hak

words: 1.5k

tw: Dark™ shit

Jiwoon Hak:

Jiwoon can't understand. He has to woo someone manually? Shouldn't you be falling for his charms already, like anyone he's ever met?

Seriously, are you blind or something?

How annoying..

Jiwoon can't be bothered to put effort into anything else other than his art. It's unreal that he has to put in more work than zero to get someone and after all the trouble, he won't kill them? That's the exact opposite of how he operates. Plus, did you not realize who he was?

He 'tsk tsk's in Korean, letting out his frustrations with a short sigh.

Fine. Jiwoon will try harder.

How did normal people do this shit again?

He only recalls his fans' compliments, a vain attempt to flirt with him — like he wanted them back or didn't know he was so handsome, so talented already.

Either way, for him to call you something nice when he, or even you, could treat himself to some more of that arrogance niceness instead?

Ha, good one.

Jiwoon's not fully convinced you don't like him anyway.

Everyone loves him, don't they? You're no different, surely.

Maybe that understanding stems from a false result of his ego getting to him, or the potential interest you might show in him now or later, but who can be really sure at this point?

One thing is for sure and that is Jiwoon is not usually never the go-getter in 'romantic' relationships, making this instance probably the first and most likely the last exception.

Someone else would always want him first, but now the scenario was reversed, much to his dismay.

Yet, he knew what to do. Jiwoon was quick, usually.

He had just the idea of how he could put out, his style. It'd be no short of a special occasion.

You'd be lucky to play the role Jiwoon would give you.

Why? Well, for starters, it was given by him, and he was pretty amazing.

Pursuing you by no means meant taking it easy on you, though. It was actually the other way around.

Jiwoon dedicated himself to the next trial he had with you.

It was insignificant, other than the fact that you had been left still unhealed even after your second hook.

That was painful enough to begin with, but even if one was healthy, finding one of the burst junks that was littered throughout the dark area was never too easy. And of course, the only option you had left was to rush the last machine. Almost there, you tried to motivate yourself to keep going, just one more.

A glimmer of orange accompanied your vision. Search cut short, you cleansed the totem, hoping someone else would take care of your main concern.

The exit gates were powered with a blaring warning for the killer and anyone around the perimeters just as the bones crumbled beneath you.

It wasn't as good of a new as one would deem it as, however.

Your current position was the most unfortunate amongst others.

One more hook meant death, and your wobbling form meant you were too slow to put out a good fight. Whatever run you'd make in this situation would fail had he showed up suddenly.

With the help of your nowhere-to-be-seen teammates' help, you had to be put back to the healthy state like you once were in when the trial started, even if that hadn't last long, maybe it would now.

It had to, until you were back to the campfire.

Yet, seeing as the gates were now fully open, it was only a matter of time before they'd all leave you behind to tend to yourself, or rather, die.

Even if you were to avoid the latter, the first was a dangerous task out in the open, where a flying knife could cut bring you to the ground in an instant, and eventually your temporary end.

That's when you suddenly remembered — and thanked Nancy in your mind for giving you the tip of healing up in a locker before you ran for your life the last time for quite some time and optimistically successfully.

Counting your blessings for somehow not being broken yet and trying to keep the painful reminders of your injuries to a minimum, you squeezed into the tight space to begin working on the worst bleeds.

The amount of time you had to save yourself was strictly limited, but you still used it to briefly console yourself, but it was impossible to keep calm when every second counted. At least he'll be near them now.

Everything hurt.

Most cuts were too deep to even do something about. Panicking and unable to hold in your cries, you clung to the mere possibility of him chasing someone else as your trembling hands slipped on the red-slick skin.

But Jiwoon had noticed. How could he not? He was after you, and he'd have to be deaf for his ears to not pick up the piteous whines that left your mouth.

Jiwoon enjoyed the sounds. Coming to you straight away felt strangely more satisfying than sticking the sharp objects into your cowardly friends.

As he neared your poor hiding spot, the cheery hum and resounding footsteps caught your attention.

No, no, no, please, you held your breath and begged for him to walk past you, and the melody stopped.

Relieved that you had avoided the Entity's grasp this time, you breathed out with relief.

So did Jiwoon, taking out a set of blades that were beyond rusted from overuse.

The cling reached your ears, so did the THUD of his deadly bat dropping to creaking floor.

What came next was too rapid for you to comprehend properly.

Jiwoon skillfully unleashed the flurry of knives he had specifically picked out for none other than you.

He knowingly kept his aim lighter.

For a change, the knives were not thrown to pierce your body, and they hardly fully pierced through your cover.

You'd find out the purpose behind them soon, but even the lacking suffering couldn't stop the fear from impaling you in place, as you rewarded him with plenty of screams. A maniacal laugh escaped him.

So sweet, so lovely.

A restless Jiwoon continued.

Nearly there, he couldn't help his smile getting wider.

His wrists weren't sore at all. If anything, they were more energized by the violent act as each blade took its spot on compartment.

As the second to last blade took flight, he retrieved a bloodied autograph.

It was a rarer version of what his victims usually received before they died in this realm.

He was sending a sultry kiss to the camera, but fresh blood had splattered over half of his face, enchanting his best features, in his opinion.

A worryingly huge pool of crimson seemed to be running down his sleeve.

Although it wasn't in the frame, his clothes and the surgical equipment from dissecting a past victim shared the same attribute.

Mightee Entertainment had thought the shot — taken by the victim that was slowly dying in the fake premise of sparing her life if she complied — was rather disturbing and unfit of his persona.

They claimed it was too much fake blood, yet the gruesome scene had been all too real.

Jiwoon insisted his art would fit the theme of his grisly comeback up until the end, but the company put their foot down at last and outright rejected the idol's wish.

Jiwoon would find a way, though, he never gave up to have his way.

After he coerced Yun-jin to pitch in, it was done. The company let it happen and if it wasn't for his dear manager, the photocard would never make its way into many of the adoring superfans, one of which would end up being the very first fan he'd torture and kill after a certain VIP meet-up.

To congratulate his moving up in the world, Jiwoon went as far as to write "I have seen God" on her chest with her blood. His masterpiece had beautifully led him to another piece of artwork.

And history repeated itself.

He stopped reminiscing and took the last showstopper, stabbing the photo and sending both flying your direction.

The final touch marked the finish of his work, and it was almost like déjà vu.

Jiwoon caught his breath and admired his not-so-hard but very impressive job on your worn-out shelter.

It was hard to deny that his upbringing, the family restaurant his father owned had influenced him and helped perfect his craft. The shape was flawless, as you'd come to agree.

Crazy, yellow eyes met yours through the crack. He smiled one last time before leaving.

The fright slowly faded as you watched his back become smaller.

Figuring there was a fair amount of distance between you two and not a lot of time to get out of here while you still could, you decided to leave questions like why for another time.

That wouldn't be the case when you got out of your tricky location with added scars, however.

Granted, they were better than meeting your demise, but could the same be said about the apparent heart shape on the locker?

If you were frozen, glued to the spot before, now you were frigid.

The horrid self-portrait that laid on the ground would be the last thing you put your hands and eyes on.

Jiwoon watched from afar as the Entity's claws spiked through your flesh.

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #ji woon hak #dbd trickster #jiwoon hak x reader #jiwoon hak #trickster x reader #fanfiction #dbd fanfic #dbd fic #dbd #x reader

[slasherwhxre]

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! Can I ask of Michael, Freddy, Bubba, Amanda and Pinhead (from movies) reacting on the reader who plays DBD and when playing as the killer plays as their counterpart from game, and as a survivor be are chased by one of them?

hi! interesting idea!!

Slashers' Reaction to: You Playing DBD w/ Their Characters

Character(s): Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, Bubba Sawyer, Amanda Young, Pinhead

Michael Myers:

Michael catches sight of the blonde woman, which you seem to be controlling, as she staggers forward.

He watches, at least you think he does, but who can be sure other than himself? He does have a staring problem, after all.

In truth, he is paying some attention. The resemblance is undeniable, that is her and this is the street she was at that Halloween night.

One question remains to be answered — but also never asked, as always — though, what has you so worried you feel the need to slam your fingers and panic like this?

Then Michael finds out.

Same mask, same outfit, and no doubt the same knife his then-tiny hands first used in the year 1963.

'You', are running from him, hoping he won't get close enough to stab you.

And, well, suffice to say, Michael's rooting for the opposite outcome.

Unfortunately he's let down when you make a successful getaway.

Why must you torture him like this?

It's like blue balls to him, except ten times stronger and not sexual, plus the only blue thing is his jumpsuit anyway.

Bored of playing the prey, you switch to killer then. The Stalker pops up as default from the last time you played him and Michael beckons.

"You.. wanna play?"

Nod.

Was it strange of the Boogeyman to have better mannerisms when he wanted to kill people online for a change, technically speaking?

Yes or no, who cared, you didn't know. You did know for a fact that everyone in the world would've died to see him try, so, meh, you figure.

Why not humor him. At least he asked nicely, right?

And try, Michael did. But there was clearly not much need for him to put a lot of effort in.

Why is he so good at this?

Why would his real life experience really help his gameplay at all?

I literally taught him the controls five minutes ago!

Unnerving thoughts ran through your head as he put every last one of them on death hook one by one.

"Good thing the Entity is not real, but I'm sure you'd be really in demand if it was."

Finished and satisfied at last, he nodded. A good job well done, indeed.

Apparently Michael is really dedicated about killing — not surprising — and takes his passion and to every platform.

Freddy Krueger:

Laughs as your teammate snaps their finger to wake you up.

"What a damn buzzkill!"

Though the buzz is not yet dead, because they get downed while you're back to safety thanks to their sacrifice.

Boy can he watch you do this for hours.

The more your friends panic, the more of a joy it is for him.

Freddy can see why you find this fun, even though you have your own reasons for that.

Straight up amazed without any hiding when you tell him he can play as himself if he wants.

He does, although not the best.

"2/4 is good, that's half!"

"Beginners luck."

That pisses him off, but Freddy is determined to prove you wrong, just lend him your account for a weekend.

"Sure, but then it'll be just luck."

At this point, he's ready to get the game just to best you.

How does one say 1v1 me bro in scary burnt old man?

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba's ears pick up the distant noise of a chainsaw. That's his jam, don't you know?

He makes a curious little noise, wanting to know what's going on.

A teammate drops to their demise with a scream, but you're determined to prevent it.

"Sorry, Bubbs, can't explain now, but you'll see soon."

If you say so. Bubba sits down with a plop and attentively watches what you're doing.

He sees the hook, an all too familiar object.

Then the bloodstained yellow apron.

Realization falls upon Bubba, but he still feels the need to ask. He does so by being loud and pointing to the in-game him first, then his body.

Unfortunately, you're too engrossed in body blocking to answer him.

Fortunately, he's not a hundred percent aware of what you're preventing 'him' from doing, otherwise Bubba wouldn't exactly be ecstatic of it.

Thanks to your help, your friend manages to struggle down game Bubba's shoulder. Yet you don't seem to be as fortunate as them because his saw is on to you in seconds, and down you go.

"Well, you got me."

That confirms his previous suspicions.

You go right on the same hook you helped your friend avoid.

Able to differentiate between real life and video games, animalistic buy happy noises come out of his mouth.

Afterwards, you go in shop and show him the Canniball.

Bubba's curiosity is handsy at times, like now.

He traces the outline of his model, saying something, possibly critiquing his design and you wish you could understand.

"Whaddya say? Should we get it?"

Frantically excited, Bubba nods aggressively. "Alright, let's."

He is having the time of his life watching you go after survivors, expressing his emotions and reacting more than you at times.

Part of him is wondering if he can play too, but he's quite shy to tell you himself.

If you offer to teach him to play, he might feel more confident.

Bubba might get frustrated if he's unable to capture everyone at first, so please encourage him plenty of times and put your faith in him.

With reassurance, patience and practice, he'll do better and make you and himself proud.

Amanda Young:

If it wasn't for the character you're playing as, Amanda wouldn't have spared a second glance to your method of time wasting or whatever it was again.

Whoever's hands those are, there is a hidden blade under their right sleeve, just like hers.

"What's this one about?"

Roaring, you ambush an injured survivor, dashing to their frame in milliseconds and making them fall.

Amanda's eye twitches as the person on the ground lets out a shriek, and you address her question. "You."

"What?"

"A version of you that no longer believes in second chances, anyway."

Confused more than ever and unsure if you're messing with her, she sits down. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It's a game."

She tilts her head, looking at your face even if you're unable to return the favor. And?

"Not exactly like Jigsaw's, that's all."

Amanda's quieter with that, staring at a beeping reverse bear trap on a subject's head.

"Watch."

You don't have to tell her to pay attention, she knows up close and personal what's coming soon from the erratic beeping.

Still, her eyes widen a bit as the body drops to the ground.

"Guess she couldn't be saved."

"None of them are, that's the point."

The words send a light chill down her spine, but Amanda seems to recover pretty quickly.

"Play as one of them." And we'll see.

Demanding you play as a survivor against the Pig, surprisingly and patiently, she waits until you get her as the killer at last.

By the time you get lucky, she's pretty much into the gameplay as much as you are. This one is definitely not as boring as the others, at least.

Coincidentally, you get the map The Game, and once again Amanda shudders at how eeriely accurate it mostly is.

You put up a good fight, only getting hooked once and when you're rescued, you successfully remove the death machine on your head as well.

"See? Everyone is savable."

Pinhead:

Uninterested.

Why did you summon him when you're playing with your much less interesting, thin, technological box out of all times? Boring.

But why does one of the virtual humans seem to possess the box? Wait..

You make them open it.

Now his interest is piqued.

Of course, there are no hints to finding that out, aside from him narrowing his eyes ever so slightly at the bright screen.

You opened the box, I came.

Quietly watches over your shoulder, amused, as your character tries to untangle themselves from his never ending chains.

Definitely thinking you're not going to make it, no one escapes from him.

Well, you do.

Hmph. Unrealistic.

Turns out you don't, not for too long at least, because he gets two hits not even a minute after your unfortunately short-lived freedom.

Full on smirks at the turn of events, not that he expected anything else, but you're too busy trying to struggle out of 'his' grasp.

Try as you might to get away, you still die in the end.

He's weirdly enjoyed this process of fake him hurting fake people, you should definitely summon him each time you play.

There's little chance he'll ever give it a go, but he does seem to enjoy watching survivors in trials with himself, especially the misfortunes. Scratch that, only the misfortunes.

He will be visibly offended if you don't do a good job playing as him, however.

His, Mori, you mouth some basic in-game terminology every now and then that he happened to pick up, always makes up for it, though.

Definitely finds it to be a shame how the concept of Entity is only made up as he would've liked to learn about such a being.

#slashers #horror #fanfiction #dead by daylight #dbd x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy kruger x reader #amanda young x reader #pinhead x reader

[slasherwhxre]

HELLO your post ab killers w their s/o moaning someone elses name in their sleep? absolute brainrot 😭😭 if ur down, could u do the same scenario but for joey, the oni and the nemesis? My brain is overflowing thank u so much for the delicious content 😭😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

<3<3

DBD Killers' Reaction to: You Moaning Someone Else's Name in Your Sleep, pt. 2

part 1 here (Herman, Michael, Danny, Frank)

Character(s): Kazan Yamaoka, Legion Joey, Nemesis

Kazan Yamaoka:

"Evan, oh,"

Kazan doesn't need to hear you for the second time to catch on.

Evan.. He tries to remember.

Evan.. MacMillan?

'The coward of an heir to the MacMillan estate?'

You could simply not be imagining such a dishonorable man on top of you.

Reminded of the killer's pathetic past with fury gripping at his collar, Kazan can hardly keep his hand from grabbing the futon your body is laying on.

All those lives had been sacrificed and still, the prized estate of the man you were fantasizing was basically in ruins still. What a waste. Not like it could ever share the charm of the Japanese family estate, anyway.

The weak man or his weak traps, cowardly weapons, Kazan considers them, do not stand a chance against a warrior like himself, one that was from a powerful bloodline unlike him.

The heir of MacMillan is no match for me or you, at least in Kazan's book, or rather his big Kanabou, the powerful and studded samurai war club.

Had his infamous wraith and a desire to uphold traditions not taken over, he would've let out a roaring laugh that fit such a demon like himself.

Unfortunately, he didn't. His world views were more or less tied to the time period he had lived in. which meant Kazan couldn't even begin to explain how unacceptable your behavior was.

Inappropriate, looked down upon, shamed. Unlike him making you scream with pleasure in the padded unsprung style of bedding, again and again, for you were more or less his.

Partaking or dreaming of pre-marital sex out in the open might have been disregarded and a no source of concern for lower classes like you came from, but Kazan was from an upper class and so were you now.

Kazan had already messed up once when he was alive while trying to regain any amount of honor, and a non-formal relationship with someone not worthy of his family name would show him the pattern continued even in this realm. After all, affairs weren't supposed to be based on romantic attraction, and ashamed as he was to admit it, this one was.

You would learn to submit to the head of the Yamaoka house, in every way possible, if you knew what was best for you.

Joey:

"Ah, Philip," 

Joey had been more or less impartial about your past, and most definitely not a saint himself, but he probably didn't need to put it into words why it was wrong of you to dream-fuck your ex-boyfriend right beside your present one. 

I mean, that was indeed your ex, right? He must have been. Joey didn't know anyone named Philip, as far as he remembered. 

Later on, his forgetfulness would result in what could be defined as one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

"Do you guys know a Philip?"

Frank turned towards him, itching the forehead part of his mask. "No. Why?"

"No reason."

"Right."

"I think I do," Susie cut in between them, "That's Wraithy."

"Wraith..y?" Joey questioned, repeating her. 

"Yup. Wasn't his name Philip, Jules?"

Julie nodded, and Frank seemed to remember it too then. "Yeah, he's Philip. Why are you asking?"

Joey's chill exterior was evaporating at a fast pace as he came to the realization, leaving its place to an abnormality, also known as passive aggressiveness. 

"No reason." 

Regretting ever asking, he left without a second word.

"You owe me one, Frank."

"Shit. Yeah, whatever. I really thought they were having a threesome. Can't blame a guy for thinking of that first, can you?"

Joey hadn't left soon enough, resulting in him hearing their last words. A.. threesome? 

Like hell, Joey replied internally. 

If anyone thought he didn't get jealous just because he wasn't as possessive as any other person, they couldn't be more wrong.

It didn't take a lot of effort. 

Seeing the skull mask behind one of the many trees around the campfire, you jumped up and away, leaving your friends a with a bullshit sounding excuse.

"Hey," you greeted him, and Joey gave a nod. Being quiet was a normal quality of him, although the reason was not a part of his identity for once. You started putting a distance between the survivors, going deeper into the dark woods.

"How are you?"

"Confused." 

"Confused?" His first ever words had taken you back by surprise. "Uh-huh."

"About?.." 

Joey's unusually matter of fact behavior was already successful in making you nervous, but his steps next to you suddenly stopped. 

"I'm trying to figure out if you have a thing for guys who can't keep a job."

"What?" You blinked. 

"Y'know, me." He stepped closer before continuing, "And 'Philip'."

And you thought you were intimidated initially. Instinctively backing up and bumping against a half rotting tree, you tried to make sense of this weird subject. "What are you even on about?"

Joey was close to ripping out a chunk of the tree behind you, instead he scolded you, getting rid of the space between your bodies. "You can't be that forgetful." 

"I'm not being forgetful." 

His curved blade suddenly hit the old trunk, and you let out a yelp. 

While the sharp weapon had missed any vital area, a bunch of your hair was caught up in it, making escape rather painful.

Actions had been always louder than words for Joey. This time they were clearly telling you're not allowed out of his sight, or rather, palm. 

"Was this what he was doing?" The words were spoken into your neck as his free hand wandered up your midriff.

His fingers were cold. Far too cold for your warm skin, but that was the last sensation you could pay attention to while they pinched a nipple, earning him weird squeals from you.

"Joe- please," 

Struggling to make out words for what he was up to so out in the open, you let out something comprehensible at last.

"Please what?"

Your begging softened the way he was feeling you up for a second while he brought his covered forehead to yours.

"I only have a thing for you," you promised, but the sentence had come out like a reminder, one he secretly needed, still not more than your body, for the time being. "You know I belong to you and you only,"

"Yeah," he agreed casually, "You better know it too."

Nemesis:

"Chris, ooh,"

Nemesis couldn't grasp the meaning of the strange sound that left your sleeping form.

The only logical part of it had been the name to him, it was one he was familiar with.

S.T.A.R.S..

Ex-member Chris Redfield, colleague and friend of Jill Valentine.

The sound after that, however, wasn't really something he could make sense of.

It wasn't pain, as he more than knew how to inflict that, yet had never had the pleasure of hearing something along the lines of ooh.

Whatever it was, your mannerisms were odd to say the least, and the mention of a person of interest to him raised suspicion, so it didn't matter if he didn't exactly know what to make of it.

First things first, his hands would land on your body to shake you out of it.

How could he have known that this would backfire on him greatly?

Even programs had their limits, and he seemed to be at his when your noises only amplified on impact, and the first confusion he felt was nothing compared to the present.

Then he received his first and only hint. "Touch me, ah-"

Finally, discerning the situation, he scooped up your body in an instant, giving you a small heart attack. You suddenly opened your eyes up in the air, being carried to somewhere unknown on his shoulder like you weighted absolutely nothing.

While your heaviness was by no means acknowledged, your back was.

Your behind was presented with a loud smack. Aware of his own strength, he was going to make reality better than whatever scenario you were just in.

Punishment wasn't his goal, not yet at least.

He was simply pursuing your naughty dream for now, it was what he was made to do, after all, but you were in for more delicious stings either way.

Who knew copulating with the enemy had some painfully good consequences, and even former humans could be jealous?

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #the legion #the legion x reader #the oni x reader #kazan yamaoka x reader #dbd the oni #dbd joey #legion joey #dbd nemesis #nemesis x reader #resident evil #joey x reader #dbd joey x reader

[slasherwhxre]

Knocks on your house

Looks left and right

Slips it under your door

Can you please do Herman , frank , Danny , Michael reaction to their girlfriend moaning someone else’s name in their sleep ? A fellow survivor or a killer your choice ! Bounce points if it’s nsfw but anything is good 👀

DBD Killers' Reaction to: You Moaning Someone Else's Name in Your Sleep (oops)

Character(s): Herman Carter, Frank Morrison, Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson, Michael Myers

words: ~2k

Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson:

"Frank, ugh,"

Danny wasn't exactly the jealous type.

That still didn't mean he didn't practically slit your throat right here and then.

A near unknown feeling enticed him, which wasn't shocking as he didn't precisely possess a lot formerly.

Had you forgotten about his camera roll or something?

Not only were there were some of his best work in there with the shots including you, sometimes parts of himself, and not a lot of clothing.

You knew he was special. In all honesty, how many people could you say had dominated you like Danny while making art, after all?

And he could show it all to Mr. Legion himself, if it came to it. You did look good in his shroud and nothing else, as well as bound to different objects both in private and public with thick, strong cords. Not to toot his own horn — you did that for him anyway — Danny knew his way around ropes.

It'd be a shame if they were never seen by anybody other than you two, anyway. 'Thought I'd do you a favor, Frankie. You'll never get to experience this, this and this...'

His visual memory wasn't half bad, the photos flashing in his mind. Of course, it helped that he had been there to experience everything he captured.

"Just like that," He had mandated many sinful angles and positions, picking the best ones to capture at any given opportunity. Rather than being proof of your intimacy, l they were memorabilia of intimacy but once Danny put his feet down and let everybody know how much you belonged to him, definitions only held him back.

If he could help it, it didn't really matter whatever you dreamed.

If you or your mind did persist, you'd just have to face the painful consequences.

Nothing stopped him in here, did it? You couldn't, and anyone else simply wouldn't.

He did own you, but it was better than being owned by his knife, you'd surely agree.

Michael Myers:

The term slept like a rock did apply to Michael too, only in connotation, of course. He was somewhere between asleep and awake when he heard you whine.

Were you having a nightmare?

He had them from time to time too, although he wasn't quite as reactive as you. But then again, that's how he was.

The visions must have been really out there in terms of scariness, or at least that was what Michael was inclined to believe when you grabbed onto his arm.

Fortunately, Michael knew both fear and sleep made controlling your body all too difficult, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the sudden contact too kindly.

Well, that just about turned out to be the understatement of the century.

Apparently his limb wasn't a sufficient sacrifice as he initially thought it had been, as your body seemed to take up his side now, but surely you'd stop there?

Oh how wrong he was once again.

Were you.. humping? "J-Jake," Oh, so you definitely were.

With understanding came hostility as he grabbed your shoulder, shoving you down on your back and jolting you awake which of course put an early end on to your lustful fantasy.

Your drowsy eyes met the black holes of his mask and a yelp escaped your lips. "Michael?"

While your voice had wavered saying his name, his breathing pattern was brisker than usual due to the current situation. He qas 'confronting' you, in his own manners. "What's wrong?"

Michael gave a nod which pointed upwards. You, the message was clear.

"Me? What about m—" The question was cut short as his hand had suddenly decided to explore your body down. "Michael, what are you—"

It would seem he had found the evidence he was after. Landing on your panties, his fingers came to a halt.

Soaked, just as Michael had thought. "Ah, hey—"

Try to hide as you might, you couldn't help the pathetic noise that came out of your parted lips. Even if it had been a result of surprise for the most part, a hint of arousal from your unfinished dream business could still be sensed, which must've done nothing else except encourage Michael.

His digits crept their way under your undergarment as you made no effort to stop neither them or him.

Touching you bare now, normally he'd add some more moisture to make playing with you easier, if he felt like removing his cover. Right now, though, he could feel your keen sex didn't require any help. Michael's fingertips were coated with your slickness.

Just when you could enjoy the feeling of being touched, he abandoned your sensitive spot.

"Wh- Michael, why did you stop?" You tried to obtain any explanation for the way he was acting, all the while knowing no hint was coming and it was your personal job to figure out the reason.

There was little to no reasoning on why Michael had decided to leave you hot and bothered.

You could do with a little teasing, as a small punishment. It was the fairest he had been in his whole life, to be honest, while still being a little shit.

Plus, he had already proven to both you and himself that he was the one for you, and refuting that fact with any kind of behavior had repercussions.

Herman Carter:

"Oh, Kazan!"

Herman didn't need much sleep to begin with, but he especially didn't need to hear you utter the name of another man as he got some shut-eye, no pun intended.

You did realize he had not only the means to pass an electric current through your body in more ways than one, but the will too, right? Perhaps it wasn't engraved in your memory as strongly as he had previously thought.

Being asleep or unconscious was never a excuse. You should've known there would be consequences, down to a subliminal level.

Herman considered his choice of action. Like always, he was far from being at loss about what to do about your mishap. It was more about himself, a habit, his M.O even to consider the possibilities and determine the best outcome.

He deduced you had no shame whatsoever. What would Rin, the closest thing to a friend you had in this hellish realm, would have to say to you having inappropriate visions about her grandfather?

As tempting as shocking you right up from your sweet slumber was, Herman came to another conclusion.

Discipline.

It didn't matter if you were his significant other. He had done the worst of the worst to his mentors, after all.

If you wanted anything else besides ending up as just another casualty of his madness-induced science experiments, you'd learn to conform.

Conform in this case, of course, meaning screaming his name until he was pleased with the results.

In bed and any other surface used during this, he didn't need a punishing stick or a static blast. Soon you learned the only name that was allowed to come out of your mouth was Herman's.

Thankfully, the 'treatment' was a success, as his next favorable option had included not-so-private sex in the Japanese family estate.

Frank Morrison:

Frank opened his eyes. Some gibberish noise his alert ears had picked up had stirred him awake.

His right hand went to grab his knife on instinct while half-lidded eyes sleepily scanned the surroundings, his room, to see if anything, or anyone, was out of place. The weapon was kept in a bedside drawer whenever you came over and spent time together in his bed.

When your ever-the-protector concluded that it was safe, he turned to his side and moved a lazy hand to your waist. Comfortable once more, he nearly dozed off before another sound, much more comprehensible this time, halted his drift like no other threat. "Mm, Leon."

Leon?

Frank's eyes shot open once more.

That Kennedy fuck? Rage ignited in his chest like a hot ball of flame, and it was sure as hell hotter than the fireplace downstairs, or whatever you and that dumb blonde fucking loser was doing in your imagination.

Frank's jaw tightened. Normally, he would have laughed at the irony of someone screwing a murderer in their day-to-day life and a rookie, useless, cop in their nightly dreams but it was you, and you were his. Had you forgotten which side you were on when you laid right next to your boyfriend, the murderer in question?

You were his, Frank's palm squeezed the exposed flesh it laid on, His. He'd be ecstatic to provide you with a review lesson, it'd be a reminder to who was 'the real one to touch you, the one and only one getting to actually fuck you'.

Just then, you let out another whimper, thank fuck you didn't say that name again, but nonetheless anger roused out of him once again. Frank had been administering a lot of control until now, but you were pushing it.

It took a lot out of him to no shove you on your stomach with brute strength and question you senseless, only the interrogation would have left you sore and get you killed in trials that followed.

Trials. Of course. Did he have to watch Leon around the campfire now? Frank would surely lose it if the amateur man tried to come onto you. Figuratively, of course, as he was the only one to do that literally. Maybe he could ask Danny to keep an eye on him instead.

It didn't matter if you wouldn't actually betray him for anyone else, you weren't off the hook. Verbatim, of course, as any trials with him as the killer after the incident would be nowhere near manageable with him being extra violent than anyone could be ever used to.

The worst part, at least for you, was yet to come, however. Figuring out the exact cause of his clear frustration was no easy task, as Frank's usual mood was grumpy in nature and even then, he was not exactly willing to voice the issue outright this time.

He was, however, giving you a lot of suspicious one-overs without your knowledge throughout the week, which unfortunately were no hint to you as the smiling mask more often than not covered his face.

The problem more than dawned on you when instead of what can be considered as his version of sweet nothings, he expressed something else while he took utmost advantage of Julie, Susie, and Joey gone once. "Can Leon make you feel like this?"

His hips weren't the only thing repeatedly hitting your body as his warm breath tickled the soft spot between your ear and neck. That in itself was substantial in sending chills down your spine, a satisfying result of his favorite position where he held all the power over you. "Can he? Tell me."

Even with all the added labor of taunting you, Frank was restless. He'd continue to be, until you could convince him that Frank was the only one you'd submit to.

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #michael myers x reader #frank morrison x reader #herman carter x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson x reader #the legion x reader #michael myers #frank morrison #herman carter #dbd doctor #dbd legion #dbd fanfic #dbd fic #fanfiction

[slasherwhxre]

Here goes nothing, I was wondering if you could possibly write the "slasher reacting to you wanting to be hurt in bed" scenario with Danny Johnson as well 🥺👉👈?

By the way I really like the way you write him, idk if that's a weird thing to say, but yeah, I feel like your interpretation of him is the closest to mine out of all the slasher blogs I follow and obviously all the other interpretations are very fine but also the one closest to mine will obvi be my fav gszezshhshs.

AAA yo 🖤 not to play favorites but danny is the most fun to write outta everyone so absolutely

DBD Killers' Reaction to: You Wanting to Be Hurt in Bed

Character(s): Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson

Pre-Entity (1993):

"Are you sure?"

His eyes bored into yours. The dark and intense gaze was full of something you couldn't exactly put your finger on. If there was a way to read him, you doubt you'd be able to comprehend the meaning behind those eyes at this moment. Intent, maybe, that would be your best guess. But you'd never come quite close to guessing it correctly, Danny already knew you were sure.

He knew you'd eventually give in like he wanted you to, whether you were conditioned into it or not.

So far, you had let him desecrate you, whether you were aware of that or not. Now, you were a step closer to knowing he had. It was a possibly destructive situation to put yourself in all thing considered, especially willingly.

After all, his initial question wasn't raised just for consent. It was a subtle way of shifting the blame, not that you'd ever catch onto it, not for a long while if everything went according to plan. The tone had, clearly, implied You asked for it, remember that.

Seemingly oblivious or straight up careless, either way worked for him really, you nodded. "If that's okay."

You don't know the half of it, Danny was thinking. Now you were walking on thin ice, or, well, his knife, technically. Eventually, anyway.

That short conversation was all it took and Danny more than delivered.

He was a natural. Years of experience had helped the development of his skills too, of course, yet it was all the same to Danny.

It occurred to you a few times how suspiciously good at 'hurting' he was, but each time it quickly vanished as there was no way or room for you to question his abilities, which was how he preferred it.

"Shut up," Danny told you whenever you couldn't take it. Role-play as it was supposed to be, it felt deadly serious.

If you couldn't comply, he'd simply shut you up himself. A blackout was inevitable, or so it seemed. The worry was in vain as his hand would leave your throat right when your world around would start darkening. It was good, scary good. The pleasure could easily make one desensitized, depraved even, and it did just that.

Danny hadn't expected you to succumb to him as much as you had. It was a surprise when you put your hand over his when it was in the middle of choking you.

His face stayed still, but his grip loosened slightly, his primary instinct told him you were trying to make him stop. Then you gave a weak squeeze.

More.

You wanted more.

And how funny that was.

He wanted to kill you.

And you wanted him to kill you.

Danny nearly chuckled, but even as his chest heaved, it didn't take him off his thrusting game. He didn't necessarily want to end your life now.

It will happen, trust me on that. Maybe at some point, he guessed.

You were more eager than him, which could only be described as sick. Right up his alley.

It made his desire grew.

Danny wanted to push the limits of what he could do to you and what you could take before you simply stopped moving underneath him.

Despite the dark urges that threatened to take over him which got him closer to taking your life during rough intercourse, he was always nothing short of a sweetheart afterwards.

Going as far as to shower with you and help you wash off.

Although, he never seemed to do anything about the bruises. Danny enjoyed seeing them and had to admit that hurting you outside of bed was getting almost too easy. Not to mention more and more enjoyable, until it would reach its peak.

He'd be nice until he would get to break you again and again, until the very last time.

Post-Entity (????):

As if you had to ask him anyway.

Still, Danny was pleased. You still wanted to feel his knife grazing you while he fucked you, and he'd have to be not himself to refuse that.

He didn't have to put up any acts anymore and being in control of you was ten times better now.

You cleaned his gloves better than he ever could that was for sure. Did he ever tell you how good you looked covered in blood?

Despite how much he enjoyed being in control, which was about most of the time, he nearly lost it seeing you lick his sharp silver weapon.

He no longer told you to shut up. Making you cry was a turn on, actually.

The very first time he noticed a single droplet rolling down your cheek, his tactical knife was almost too quick to catch it. Danny didn't really mean the act to come out as touching, that was obvious when the pointy item scraped down your cheek, tracing the natural route of your future sobs and leaving a vertical cut in its place.

Soon, satisfaction would mix in with the delicious sting as you embraced the pain and pleasure all the same. And never without a fail, Danny provided you both, often at once.

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #fanfiction #dbd #dbd fanfic #dbd fic #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #ghostface dbd #dbd danny

[slasherwhxre]

Slashers' Reaction to: You Wanting to Be Hurt in Bed (cause same)

|| Character(s): Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher

NSFW? 😳 n immature wordplay bc I'm childish.

Michael Myers:

You don't have to tell Michael twice.

Or once, for that matter.

He has a knack for hurting people, surely you didn't think it just vanished once he entered you the bedroom?

Michael would enjoy it more than you do, to be honest. That's just how he is. Plus, aren't you his to hurt? This comes natural to him and so does he.

If he's comfortable enough take off the mask even just a little bit and if the position allows, he likes biting your shoulder.

The bite does draw blood. Maybe you should've asked him to be more gentle instead.

If you want a strong hand squeezing around your throat, you got it. Of course, he knows how to apply just enough pleasure.

His other hand grabbing your waist to steady himself knows no limit, however.

Might check up on how you're doing later on, but usually acts how he does, going on with his days like normal.

Michael's fond of caressing any bruises left on your body. It's a nice gesture, and even a nicer reminder showing him you're his.

Jason Voorhees:

There's little he'd deny you, and this seems to be one of those things.

You try to explain, but Jason doesn't understand how to feel about it.

It's strange, you don't hurt the people you love, he'd never hurt his Mommy and even if the love he felt for his mother and his feelings for you were different in nature, it made little sense. He would only use force and strength to punish bad people after all. Besides, Jason was more than aware what his bare hands were capable of, which was why he was always extra careful handling you, no matter if it was cuddling or more.

In the end he could only warm up to the idea of being more rough sometimes, if it'd make you happy. It did, however, it also lead to a few broken furniture around.

This was far from his favourite way of having sex, but he could perhaps be fine with it every now and then, for your sake.

Billy Loomis:

There's minimal reaction. Perhaps he was expecting this, because Billy isn't really surprised, at least not visibly.

He has zero problem engaging in your masochistic fantasies. Billy will still hold back, only to hide what he's really capable of.

Having almost tremendous amount of self control is kind of his thing, so is playing it cool to make you crave it.

If you realize he is not doing the worst he can, and make the mistake of voicing this, I hope you can take what he actually had in mind.

Feels you up forcefully, couldn't pull his hands off even if you tried.

It should be noted after care is hardly his thing.

Stu Macher:

Out of everyone, you probably shouldn't have asked him. Here's to hoping you'll still stand by your decision at the end of it. As with everything, at least it doesn't take much to convince Stu, so that's a plus.

You came to the right person. Smirks saying those words, right before realizing the unintended innuendo which makes his eyes widen as he puts a hand over his mouth in mock shock. Came, get it, he emphasizes and laughs.

Couple of times you tell him to go easy, it's unclear whether Stu thinks you're just getting into the role or he just doesn't care.

Stu is relentless, yet surprisingly makes sure you enjoy it as much as he is enjoying it, and boy is he enjoying it. He knew you would anyway.

By no means Stu thinks this is how it'll be from now on. He'd rather ask or even be told beforehand. Stu's open to variety of things in bed, more than you know.

He's okay at making sure you're alright afterwards, but it's nothing special.

#slashers #slashers x reader #michael myers #bubba sawyer #jason voorhees #ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #halloween #texas chainsaw massacre #friday the 13th #ghostface x reader #michael myers x reader #bubba saywer x reader #jason vorhees x reader

[slasherwhxre]

DbD Killers' Reaction to: You Being Injured

|| Character(s): just Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson

words: 750

ik gif's billy don't come for me plz. who next?

Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson:

It was the first trial you had won.

Somehow it had been the most difficult one you've been in so far.

The ones you've died in, surprisingly had taken less of a toll on you. Either way, taking countless hits and being chased while hurt, you had never once given up.

Fortunately, it had paid off in the end.

You had managed to escape.

Unfortunately, though, everyone had winced at the sight of you back at the campfire.

Pity. It was the last thing you wanted.

If anything, you had expected congratulations. Yet they were paying attention to the wrong side of the damage.

To them, it was a painful reminder of misfortune and hopelessness while to you, it was hard proof of an earned win. Resolution. Ambition. Successfully getting out, against all the odds of this torturous land, even if it had been temporary.

When you couldn't take their sad stares and sorrowful whispers anymore, you left your warm seat and the false sense of security that was the safe haven of survivors.

They didn't stop you.

You'd have your back, even when the others didn't stand by you.

If another predator was off in the woods, so be it. If you survived that one too, you'd know for sure you were in the right.

You didn't make it far.

That much should've been obvious, but the blood loss soon caught up with you.

To be specific, it caught up right outside his shack.

Luckily, Danny was sharp. His ears caught the thud all the way from inside.

If the noise hadn't been loud enough to lure him, though, the fresh smell of iron would have easily done it.

Danny rose and approached the sound, resting back on his heels in front of your unconscious body.

You had seen better days, for sure.

He'd know, so would his camera. Somehow, they were the only photos the Entity let him keep on the device after he had been taken.

Now, though, 'How are you still alive?' was what he was marveling at.

Had Danny seen a body in worse condition than you? Of course. But those had been the victims of Ghostface, the corpses he left behind, all for relatively small town police and folk to discover.

This was another world, however, one that clearly had different survival rates for humans, at least for the ones who were preys, as the amount of blood loss would be simply be fatal otherwise.

In any case, the crimson pool beneath your passed out self was a sight much familiar to him.

You should've done anything else. But you had chosen to run to another killer when one had already injured you. Danny found it to be amusing, you'd for sure be the dumbest person in horror movies had this been one, except it wasn't.

He wanted to see your dire situation play out, watch how it'd end for you — or would you recover after all?

Well, only one way to find out. His dark shroud made contact with the muddy ground as he crouched down to your level.

Danny sighed, having to carry someone on his free time in murder world was slightly annoying, but hey. Picking you up in his arms, it took him one step to wonder why he had gone about it like that.

Any other bloody figure from his past would've been dragged to the desired destination without a drop of care. Any other kill from his present and future would've been carelessly thrown over his shoulder.

Regardless, Danny couldn't let his former actions bother him for long, he rarely acted without thinking like this, or worse, doubted himself, so he made up a lie on the spot, one anyone could believe.

Your open wounds would leave a trace going into his living quarters, which could potentially prove bad for him if they find out about you being in his place. He was a killer technically 'helping' a survivor or so one, especially the Entity would see it as. Hell, he was starting to see it as just that.

If Danny's mind wasn't preoccupied with that dilemma, he would've gently plop you down on the couch. Which is why he had decided to suddenly drop you in the middle of the room.

The impact was successful in helping you regain some amount of consciousness while it did nothing for the dizziness as your surroundings swayed back and forth.

There was nowhere near enough of the vital liquid running through your veins for you to perk up and focus your vision. Yet, through feelings of disorientation, you made out a white mask. Tilted, it neared closer.

"Wakey wakey."

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd #dbd fanfic #danny johnson #dbd fic #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader

[slasherwhxre]

DBD Killers' Reaction to You Being Injured

|| Characters: the Legion (Frank Morrison, Julie Kostenko, Susie, Joey)

Frank Morrison:

Very. Angry. Partly at you, for being an easy target, partly at whoever did a number on you.

Don't try to explain how you did your best, he isn't in the mood to listen. As expected, Frank is raging and everything fuels his anger at the moment.

Subconsciously wishes there was something he could do to stop you from getting in harm's way, but he's helpless in that regard.

He'll have to settle for comforting you instead. So he is surprisingly gentle and cuddly until you're on your way to getting back to normal.

When you're feeling okay, he'll 'train' you. No can do if you don't like how he refers to it because it makes you feel like a dog. "C'mon, I'd never call you a bitch." He retorts, "Unless you want me to."

Julie Kostenko:

"Well," Julie scoffs at your injuries. "Someone clearly lost."

She'll make fun of you until you suck it up and learn to be tougher, that's help enough coming from her.

It's not all bad, though, Julie makes a mental note to help you practice running away from killers and preferably not get your ass beaten. By her or anyone else, as she puts.

"It's a nice gesture, yeah, yeah, don't mention it."

Don't expect her to go easy on you just because you have a slight disadvantage. It's tough love, but it's still love. Gordon Ramsay of killers, if you will.

Susie Lavoie:

Susie rushes over at the sight of you limping towards the shack and immediately gets down to business.

"Ssh. Stop fussing."

She'll scold you softly and clean up the cuts littered over your body. "Have you done this before?"

She hasn't, but she's trying for you. There's no time to think if the Entity would punish her for fixing up a survivor, especially one she loved.

"There, good as new." Susie smiles, or so it sounds like it, however she's wincing at the state of your body.

Joey:

"What happened?"

Anyone who didn't know him would think it was a careless reaction, but he was highly concerned.

Of course Joey knows what happened, all anyone needs is one look to figure out what went down, or just be in this realm, but he is just trying to get your mind out of your pain somehow though, a distraction of some sorts.

Admittedly, he could've chosen a better topic, but it was hard to ignore the subject at hand. At least he tried?

Strangely, his company and chill demeanor has the power to calm people down, so in the end it works out, and he's relieved when you miraculously make a full recovery. What can he say? The man cares about you a lot, more than he'd like to admit.

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #dbd legion #frank morrison x reader #julie kostenko #dbd susie #dbd joey #dbd fanfic #dbd fic #dbd susie x reader #dbd joey x reader #julie kostenko x reader

[slasherwhxre]

Pranking Slashers (cause you wanna die or something, you tell me)

|| Characters: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Billy Loomis

Michael Myers:

There's no way he is going to fall for any.

Or so one would think because he just did.

Michael stands still in the doorway for a whole minute, drenched in.. water? You put a full bucket on the door so it would soak him when he came home? Really?

At least you have the death wish, ahem, courage to prank the Boogeyman himself.

If you made the mistake of not hiding by now, you're in deeper trouble than you think.

Michael will find a way to get back at you in a highly thought-out prank.

Jason Voorhees:

In hindsight, Jason shouldn't have fallen for it.

He knew his territory better than anyone for it to be true. Sure, when he made his rounds he'd come across wild animals in the forest occasionally but never this grand. He'd enjoy the little bits regardless. Now, though, "Come over to the window and look at all these deer!" promised too good of an opportunity to pass up, one he was unfortunate enough to took up on.

Childishly gullible, Jason was left disappointed.

Why would you lie to him? Especially about innocent, cute beings that never hurt Jason. You knew he liked them!

Don't do it again, lest he regrets keeping you alive.

More importantly, if the deer one day show up outside the wooden hut, Jason will not be able to tell if he should believe you or not, which might make him miss the chance to see them.

Billy Loomis:

A Halloween prank, that's what you wanted to pull. It had to be somehow dark in nature to fit the season but nothing overly momentous or harmful, right?

Technically, it wasn't going to be, until you told Stu. And now, you were starting to second-guess the plan. "You sure he won't mind?"

"Oh, he'll mind alright," Stu sneered, helping to set up the prank.

"I don't think there's such a thing as prank kidnapping," you thought out loud, readying the duffel bag that was full of 'helpful items for his idea', as Stu put. Whatever the case, you figured questioning a guy that knew this much about an idea that was definitely illegal could only backfire on you which made continuing to lay off the subject as much as possible the best option, right?

"Pfft, do you care right now?"

"Billy's father will care." Probably. You couldn't help but add internally, and feel a little bad in case he didn't. God, I hope he does. You made contact with his blue eyes, in a vain attempt to show how serious the situation could end up turning out. "So will the police, most likely." The last part had more serious consequences, hopefully it'd convince him to back down and do something not as dangerous.

Stu stared back at you. His face near expressionless and more deadpan than how he acted 95% of the time, it was a little more than off-putting. The still gaze moved back down just before a chill could run down your spine. Now he stared at what would most likely count as incriminating evidence after tonight.

"Nah," he shook his head, a half-assed smile lingering on his lips, "It'll be fine."

It wasn't fine.

The worst part was probably how no one would notice he was gone, but that had to be put on the back burner for the moment as Billy screamed bloody murder. Really aggressive for someone who was seemingly at the mercy of you two. Thankfully, the field you had brought him to was in the middle of nowhere, another highly suspicious detail.

Revealing yourselves didn't ease Billy's anger. If only looks could kill.

Seeing you almost made him come up with a murder plan right then and there, you figured anyway, because it was painfully obvious and yet nobody could blame him. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you though, concentrating must be really hard with Stu's annoying laugh. Unlike him, at least you looked really sorry, tearful even.

Billy could sense the scheme of this unfunny joke hadn't stemmed from you, unless you were more like both them than he originally thought. "Untie me, you moron," The tone was unnaturally calm but deadly serious. Stu had yet to recover from his laughing fit, so you moved in place instead. "I'm sorry Billy." Even if it had been a risky move, you were relieved to have secretly packed a knife to cut the ropes and free him. Meh, at least you looked good in his costume, Billy thought, even if you had no idea it was his.

"It's alright," He softly replied, too nonchalant for someone who was rightfully pissed about being taking against their will up until five minutes ago. "You'll just have to make up to me."

#slashers #michael myers #jason voorhees #billy loomis #horror #fanfiction #imagines #Halloween #friday the 13th #scream

[slasherwhxre]

I’m living for your Danny/Reader stuff! Can we get first meetings (outside of fog?) or some ‘attempt’ at breaking up scenarios? I just love how you keep to the horror aspect of things! I love me some domestic stuff but damn it’s like, all you see anymore!!

🖤 working kinda backwards here but, first meetings will be for later~

End of the Road

Pairing: Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson x Reader

Summary: You wanted to leave him. You did, one way or the other.

tw: stalking, kidnapping

Danny knew this had been coming for a while.

He had felt it, like a chill creeping down his back.

The glasses 'Jed' wore at his job had always been a ruse after all, Danny's sight was adequate, it didn't need any correcting, especially to see what was written all over your face. The photos, those candid portraits he had taken of you when you thought he wasn't around? They spoke. 

They told him nothing good.

Danny still waited.

Maybe he was reading into it, maybe he had misjudged your expressions. Maybe, maybe, maybe, he was going crazy thinking about the existing possibilities.

He had to miss out on work.

Take a break from taking lives and writing about the very end of those lives, all for you.

Despite knowing your routine to the point he could recite it by hour, he followed your every move that whole week. 

By far the worse thing had been the fact that the amount of time he had spent being M.I.A had provided him with absolutely nothing, it only drove him closer to insanity.

You were still the same old you, had the same old life, but it was this tugging feeling at his stomach, back, head, everywhere that never left him alone.

His manipulation skills would find a way to confront you under normal circumstances, yet this time he didn't try, there was no way he was going to be put into a spot where he had to potentially be vulnerable, especially if his suspicions proved true.

He hated the situation, but you had to give him credit for not acting up on his anxieties before hearing it was true. Although maybe he should've, because they only caused him trouble, like nearly getting in his way during a spontaneous murder moment once.

When that soon-to-be-dead man wept into his knife about 'never getting to tell his girlfriend he loved him this morning', he felt like throwing up.

Thankfully, the disgust died down and so did the poor bastard with his throat slit.

Afterwards, though, he wondered if you would spend your last minutes doing the same.

Something told him no, especially if you realized your murderer would be him.

Surely you'd regret it, though.

Imagining the horror in your eyes at that moment would've satisfied him a bit normally, yet it only shot a sharp pain in his chest now.

You called him 3 days later after the stalking spree, saying you wanted time away. Time away, he had scoffed when you hung up. It was a bitter victory. Danny was once again reminded about how he hadn't been wrong about a thing once. Never in his life. Damn his people reading skills. Damn him for pursuing you. For far, far too long. Damn him for feeling anything other than homicidal tendencies for once. 

Sighing, he closed the trunk. Part of him didn't want to do this, but you had left him no choice. 

It wasn't Danny's M.O to transport his victims far away, in fact it was quite the opposite.

His killings always had to be local to where he was at the time, so he could write about it. That had been the motive from day one, when he had been somewhere around 13 or 14. Years ago. How the time flies. Your murder, though, would be a step-up from all that, he'd make sure of it.

Not another a gruesome Roseville murder, committed by none other than Ghostface himself.

Not even a horrifying murder case that terrified a major city like Miami. You'll make the countrywide headlines.

Backing the black sedan around, he threw gravel from the rear tires as the stolen vehicle took off. Cold-hearted as he was trying to be, he was rage-planning, in a way.

It made his usually self-assured and calculated personality second-guess himself. Danny grabbed the steering wheel tighter as the cries got quieter behind him. The calming sounds of the tires rolling on the pavement filled the car instead. Maybe not, he thought. Granting you special treatment even in separation was like admitting defeat, whether you were no longer alive or not.  

But Danny had to admit, he had hoped against all odds that you wouldn't try to leave him. Look where that got you. You have to be smarter than that.

A mistake like this wouldn't be made from someone so smart, someone, probably the only person, he actually, truly loved in his whole life. 

Danny wiped his perspiring face with his right arm, smiling bitterly. His eyes moved to the rearview mirror, looking at the back seat. This is the end of your story. Or perhaps, it was the beginning of the end.

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #fanfiction #ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd fanfic #dbd fic #dbd #dbd ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[slasherwhxre]

Physical Intimacy

|| Pairing: Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson x Reader

tw: abusive relationship, dark shit, knife play

Masterlist

Pre-Entity (1992):

"I wish I could hug you right now." 

"Yeah?" 

Danny stared at the bloodbath in the small motel bathroom. The incriminating evidence of his former activity was placed in the bathtub, creating a crimson mess sprawled out on black. "Yeah." He rolled his eyes when they landed on the mask. Blood was splattered on it too. Danny hadn't expected that girl to put up a fight as much as she did.

He had to clean the gear, write the article, steal a car and leave town, all in one night, tonight, yet here he was. Stuck on a lovesick long-distance relationship call. If only you knew how much of a priority you really were. Of course, that'd be the worst, he'd be near vulnerable and have no option but to kill you, but it wasn't time yet. "I'll call you, okay?" Kissing you goodbye, he had promised and delivered. Danny means every word he says, you should know by now.

"I just.." The pause on the line brought his focus back into the conversation. "Sorry."

"For what?" Exhaustion radiated off his body as he sat down and laid his back down on the bed. Thankfully he was good at acting and multitasking, along other things. "I know we promised not to be so.." 

Lovey-dovey, he was aware. "No." He stopped you. "Fuck that, I miss you." 

You were smiling. He could feel it. "I miss you too, Danny." 

He sighed, bathing in the comfortable silence. "You must be tired." Okay, so, maybe even he was not that good of an actor. "I am."

"Still wanted to hear your voice before I sleep, though," Half-lie, he wouldn't be sleeping. "I have to get on the road early in the morning." Truth, technically. It would probably be something like 4 AM when he'd be driving. 

The call ended soon. 

Danny didn't always lie to you. He just left out some bits.

But he'd put out for you, tolerate stuff like hugs, ignore the stuff he would normally never forgive, so you'd have no choice but to love him. Stay with him. You'll get your hug, and possibly more than you'd bargained for.

Post-Entity (????):

"Honey, I'm home~" Danny called out.

Silence welcomed him, unlike you. 

He crossed his arms, tapping a pointer finger against his arm. You wouldn't dare run away from him. If you had somehow escaped, though, whether he went after you or not — he would, it wouldn't even be difficult, you'd come across each other at some point anyway. It wouldn't be good for you. Maybe he was overreacting a tad, you could be in a trial. 

He found out neither scenario was it, you were just sleeping in the bed. So I did overreact, he grimly thought. He wasn't about to take his anger out on himself however.

Danny sat next to your body. His gloved fingers brushed the hair off your face, leaving a wet trail on its place. A pretty sight. 

Sensing his touch, you stirred awake. "Oh," Opening up your eyes, his mask meet your view. "Danny." 

He moved his hand, allowing you to sit up. "You're back." Danny nodded. Getting up on your knees, you threw your arms around his shoulders. He reminisced about the time when he returned from his 'work' trip, you had wrapped around him the same, then. Except he was gone for 14 days back then. Now it had been maybe a few hours. 

Feeling you tremble against him, he brought a hand to your waist. "Shh," He calmed you down, "I'm here now." 

Your chest heaved as his voice and presence slowly eased your emotions. Just before you let go, he stopped you. "Wait." 

Grabbing behind your waistline, he ordered. "Hold still for me." 

"Wh—" You tried to ask why, but nothing came out as you felt an intense tingle, like a severe electric shock above your stomach. 

"You'll see soon."

Hot white piercing pain shoot up your body. You squeezed your eyes shut, silent tears leaving them, wetting his hood. "Okay." 

"Good. Almost done." You nodded fervently. "Take a look." 

Ending the embrace, you stared at the exposed skin. "I guess I am better at photography, but it's alright for a first, hm?" Multiple cuts stared, oozing out bright blood. "Wh- I can't tell what it is."

"Mm." He looked at his artwork, agreeing. "It was supposed to be heart." His fingers grazed the mark, earning a muffled hiss from you. 

"No," He gazed at you directly, "Let it out. I wanna hear." You obliged, letting go another tear. Danny would save compliments for later, but you were doing pretty great all things considered.

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd x reader #dbd fanfic #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #dbd #dbd ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #dbd fic #fanfiction

[slasherwhxre]

Asking DbD Killers: Their Favorite Season

Masterlist

|| Characters: Max Thompson Jr., Michael Myers, Anna the Huntress, Frank Morrison

content: bit angsty fluff, lil nsfw towards the end because why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

> Summer

Max Thompson Jr.:

"Hey, Max," you say softly, laying on his firm chest in the new hammock he had just finished installing.

He makes a responsive noise as his fingers caress the hair behind your ear. "Which season do you like the most?"

Max doesn't have to think for long. Why of course, it's summer.

Growing up deprived of sunlight and love, Max wants nothing more than being out in the farm on a hot day, sun up in the air. It's freeing and fun. Even more so, if you join him.

> Fall

Michael Myers:

"Michael, what's your favorite season?"

He's indifferent at first.

If his curiosity takes over, and he wants to bring the kitchen knife with him, neither the weather conditions nor the temperatures will stop him, you should've known that. So why are you staring at him insistently like you want an answer?

Fine. He will never let you know, but sometimes it's pleasant, having someone as stubborn as himself, even when it's pointless.

Michael thinks about your question for a while.

In the end, he figures it wouldn't be half bad if the air wasn't particularly cold or hot while he was doing his business. Autumn, decides the Boogeyman, very conveniently. 

> Spring

Anna the Huntress:

"Anna, what's your favorite time of the year?"

She doesn't understand the question. People have favorite times of the year?

You clarify, "Seasons, y'know. Spring, summer, fall and winter."

Oh. Anna knows them. She's never felt all of them fully, though.

The transition from winter to summer and vice versa was very quick in the Red Forest, so, effectively, there were only two seasons in her territory. That was all Anna knew. Not to mention, in one of them, she had to prepare for the other, crueler season.

In short, Anna didn't particularly prefer one over the other. She knew well enough that each had its own pros and cons, but as long as you were with her, she was good. You're my favorite time of the year.

But maybe, if Anna could experience spring one day, she guessed it would be nice. Only if you were beside her.

> Winter

Frank Morrison:

It was insulting that you'd even ask. Really?

He crossed his arms and glared, forgetting about the mask on his face. "Is it winter?"

Of course it's winter, dumbass, "Take a guess." 

"Okay, summer then."

"Wh—, why would it be su-"

"Relax, grumpy. I'm messing with you." 

He relaxed slightly. Not because you told him to though, Frank didn't take orders. "Half messing, actually. Forgive me for thinking you'd be less predictable."

Typical? Frank's eye twitched. Before you could even know what was happening, he threw you on his shoulder. "Hey! Put me down!"

He chuckled as he kicked the weary door open and walked outside. Your fists hardly did anything to his back. "How predictable am I being now?" 

"I know you're trying to get me riled up, but, this is pretty typical of you, actual-" Without an ounce of mercy, Frank dropped you, ignoring the loud, painful thud that came out when your body hit the ground, "I was afraid you'd say that." He continued, a hint of smirk in his voice, "That's why I have this, though." The unnatural light in the dark sky illuminated the sharp object in his grasp.

Crouching down to your level, Frank whispered. "I didn't want to break you yet, babe, I swear." The tip of his knife grazed down your chin slowly as his low voice added, "But now, I kind of want to." 

taglist: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #michael myers #the legion #frank morrison #the hillbilly #dbd anna #dbd the huntress #michael myers x reader #frank morrison x reader #the legion x reader #the hillbilly x reader #anna x reader #dbd fic #dbd fanfic #dbd frank #dbd michael myers #max thompson jr