#dead by daylight fic

[murderousxcoffee]

Amoricide [Dead by Daylight Dark Soulmate AU - Trickster/Survivor!OC]

Amoricide     The act of killing your soulmate Chapter 4: Double Date Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

CW: mentioned torture, mentioned [implied] noncon, blood, Danny Ghostface

I want her.

That pissed Trickster off a little. Not as much as Cortez did, but a little. 

He sat at the table in the large, empty room, ripped straight from Earth, and stared at the old radio. Sunshine wasn't on right now. Right now, she'd put on some metal band from Sweden he probably should have heard of, the latest in a long mix of rock songs from Brazil to Japan. Later tonight she mentioned she'd play a few hours of dark electronic music, things she didn't know the genre of but felt like they should go together. She was doing her best.

He wanted her.

He didn't even know what she looked like, and he wanted her.

It was almost insulting.

Trickster propped his arm up on the table and slid his sleeve down his forearm. The mark hadn't changed, still the same twisting spiral that bloomed like flowers on either end. He placed two fingers on the mark, and cold sunk into his skin, crawling up his arm.

Cortez feared him? Good. And the bandages over her mark dripped with blood last he saw her. How stupid she must be to not understand how much he hated her, how satisfying it was to end her life like the bug she was.

No, she understood. But she didn't know why, or who he really was.

He smiled. 

A shadow passed behind him, a figure hopped up on his table. Trickster's smile dropped. Without moving his head, he looked towards the Killer who now swung his legs in the air beside him.

"Hello, Ji-Woon," The Ghostface's voice, changed by a modifier, still managed to show the smile in his voice. "Having fun all by yourself, are we? Aren't you bored?"

"Fuck off," Trickster said.

The Ghostface laughed. "Oh, don't be mean to me. Aren't we friends?"

"I'm warning you," Trickster said. "I don't have the patience for your bullshit."

"There's no bullshit here, Mr. Hak. Not tonight. Tonight's special."

Trickster leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. A special night for Ghostface meant some certain Survivor was in for it, either torture or sex, it all sounded the same when you were far enough away. 

It also meant the Killer wouldn't be in anyone's business until he got bored again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I'll ask. Who are you going after tonight?"

The mask tilted to the side.

"Frank."

A small chill went up Trickster's back. He looked at Ghostface.

"They'll kill you for that," he said. "They'll kill you for even thinking about that."

"I need a challenge," Ghostface said. "And my sweet Felix is being very, very bad tonight. He's not left the Campfire once. If I didn't know better, I'd think he's learned." The mask tilted the other way. "What do you think?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Would you like to help me?"

Trickster spat out several choice words in Korean without thinking. Ghostface laughed.

"You assume the worst of me, Mr Hak. I don't need participation, just a little assistance…"

He glared. What Ghostface did was none of his business, but he'd never considered the possibility the other Killer would go after one of their own. Frank Morrison was no friend of his. The Legion were pains in the ass, unfriendly to anyone but each other, and desperate to prove themselves in the eyes of the older Killers. A terrible combination. Sometimes he thought if he could break Frank's nose and get away with it, he would.

But Ghostface was a different beast than the Legion. Even on Earth he'd known that, just from the movie Hollywood made about him. Without thinking, Ji-Woon rubbed the cold, cold mark on his arm. Did Frank deserve whatever fate Ghostface planned for him?

… Wait, when did he start developing morals all of a sudden?

"If you want my help," Trickster said, "It better be worth my time."

Behind the mask, he felt Ghostface grin.

"Don't worry," he said. "This is something you've been waiting for."

---

Someone knocked on the front door. Sunshine didn't move. Her eyes locked onto the TV screen on her desk. She swallowed.

Three figures stood at her door, all of them in masks. She shuddered. The Legion? How did they find her?

Her janky security system had no sound, no movement, just one unblinking eye at each door. But she could hear them.

"Open up! We are Legion and this place is ours!"

"I don't think she'll let us in."

"She doesn't have a choice. We'll break down the door if we have to."

"Hey, bitch! Open the fucking door, or I'll rip your pretty throat open!"

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She didn't move. Her numb fingers shook.

"What the hell kind of door is this… Hey! Open the door or I'll fuck another hole in you with my knife! You want that?! You wanna die like that?!"

"What if she's not in there?"

"She's gotta be in, right?"

"She is a Survivor…"

"And we're down one member."

"That bitch doesn't go into Trials, I don't care what she says. We would've seen her by now."

"I guess."

"What are we gonna do with her if she is in there?"

A pause.

"Guess it depends if she's cute or not."

Men laughing, a woman's nervous giggle.

The sound cut short. Sunshine listened closer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Was that Frank speaking? He'd only spoken to her a few times before. "That's from - Give me that!"

A rustling of paper, a silence again.

Frank mumbling. 

"Fuck the radio girl," the other man, Joey, said. "This is bad."

"That's really bad!"

"Fucking… fine, we'll deal with this bitch later. Let's go."

The tension left her body. Sunshine leaned in the back of her chair. She looked towards the window, the top of it cracked open. A smile spread over her face. They'd had no idea.

She looked back at the TV. The blood rushed from her face.

Trickster stood at the door.

"Finally," he said. "Annyeong nae salang. I've been waiting for this, Sunshine."

She jumped from her chair, and it rolled back, slamming against the wall.

I need to hide, she thought.

She looked around, looked back at the screen. The door was open.

"Don't be scared." His voice wasn't coming from the window anymore. "It's only me."

Her eyes looked to the floor. Did she have enough time?

She couldn't wait, couldn't waste it. With care and difficulty, she pulled up the floor beneath her desk. The harder part was getting the floorboards back on top of her. Sunshine lay face down in the dark, her hands pressed over her mouth, and waited.

Wood creaked. Footsteps so close by. She closed her eyes, tried to stop the way she shook. 

"Are you hiding from me?" He said. "That's a disappointing thing to do. I've been looking forward to seeing you."

Creaking, squeaking wood. He stood next to the desk. 

"What's this?" He said. "Some song you've been working on? I don't know this program you're using. Music isn't an easy thing to do alone, Sunshine. Wouldn't you like some help?"

Tears burned in her closed eyes. Please, please, please, she begged. Please please, go away.

He must know I'm still here, she thought, her eyes opening. He must…

Wood creaked, right next to her head.

Something like fingernails scraped against the floor.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Sunshine clenched her eyes shut and reached out for the only help she had.

When Trickster peeled open the floorboards, all that waited was a patch of deep, fresh blood.

#dbd fic #dbd oc survivor #dead by daylight trickster #dbd trickster x reader #trickster x oc #dead by daylight oc #dead by daylight fic #dead by daylight fanfiction #noncon mention

[fairlyaltheticquails]

ill miss him in the morning

dwight fairfield x reader

you and dwight carve pumpkins, some soft stuff ensues. a tiny bit of angst in the last line.

short lil halloween fic!! (kinda). sfw fluff

words:637

“This doesn’t look right at all.” Dwight huffs, setting his pumpkin carving tool down on the table. You look over. He's right. The face is slightly crooked and lopsided, and you can't exactly tell what emotion he was going for. It's funny how it's still cute, mostly because the wonky carving is just so Dwight.

“Look at yours! How’d you get it like that?” he asks, scooching closer to you and leaning in to examine it. He reaches out slowly and touches the carving on your pumpkin. It wasn't anything special, you just had better luck at pumpkin carving than him. He still thought it was amazing. 

“I dunno, guess I'm just better.” you joke. He mocks offense with a dramatic gasp, leaning back in his chair. He turns back to his pumpkin and with his head cocked, you see it. 

 He has pumpkin guts in his hair, a nice-sized glob stuck right on the crown of his head. How it got there, you aren't sure. You debate on letting him notice on his own, but also knowing him, you know that very well could take a while.

“I really think you can fix it baby, here let me show you…” you stand in the space between your two chairs and move behind him. He leans back into you and you put your chin on his shoulder. Your brilliant plan was almost foiled when he tipped his head against yours, the little movement making your heart flutter. Because it was cute, and because it almost sent the pumpkin glob onto you. With one hand you guide his attention to an insignificant part of his carving, his eyes following your finger. With the other, you fish the wet glob of pumpkin out of his hair and then smack it straight into his cheek.

He gasps and throws his body away from you and you laugh. He wipes his cheek in horror and stares at the neon-orange mush in his hand. Dwight pauses for a moment before his face breaks into a huge mischievous smile. You can't help but smile just as widely back. God, he was so handsome like this. 

“So that's how it is, huh?” He says just barely above a whisper. It sounded like he could hardly get the words out because of his smile. He reaches down into the plastic bag of pumpkin guts and seeds from the two pumpkins and pulls out a fistful. You are so in for it. You bolt for the other side of Dwight's apartment. But it's a feeble attempt because you can't control your laughter enough to make a successful getaway. He catches you just before you get through his bedroom door, grabbing you around the middle and slathering the slimy mess straight into your hair.

“Dwight!” you shriek. He's laughing, a genuine laugh that only comes out when he doesn't let his anxiety dampen it. You love it. You love him, even if he’s currently ruining your freshly washed hair. You wiggle in his grip and he loosens his hold enough you can turn around to face him. He's still got the same goofy smile on and you can't help it. You grab either side of his face and lean in.

The kiss is messy and very difficult because both of you are still smiling, and Dwight bursts into laughter every time he manages to calm down, but it's so good. You can smell his soap, and his glasses are fogging up to the point there is absolutely no way he can see out of them, and you wish you could live in this moment forever. Just replaying on an endless loop, with laughter and smiles and the strange smell of raw pumpkin. 

After he goes missing, every lopsided hand-carved pumpkin you see makes your eyes burn.

#dwight fairfield x reader #dwight fairfield #dead by daylight fic #i love him okay #i think he would be a good boyfriend #idk maybe im just lonley lmao

[madefordvarka]

Morripark "I have fallen helplessly in love with you."?

A sea of stars twinkled down upon the rooftops of Ormond Resort.

The rundown building had become the perfect hangout for local youth- it was never patrolled by police, and was big enough that more than one group of people could hang around it without ever running into one another. 

To say it was a godsend was an understatement, a lot of kids using the resort as an escape from their less than favourable home lives.

Frank had met Jake after a messy breakup with his on again, off again girlfriend, Julie.

This resort had been one of Jake’s father’s investments- or he’d hoped it would be. They met by accident while Frank was hiding after an argument with his foster father, and Jake was exploring. 

They’d bumped into one another in the basement of the chalet, both leaping back in fright- only to realize that what they’d thought was their worst fears, was actually a friendship waiting to blossom.

Though, now Frank was realizing that it was actually even more than that- at least on his end.

He found himself thinking about Jake while he was working- strange, considering he never found himself thinking about other people. 

It wasn’t that he was selfish or anything, he just didn’t really have a lot of people to think about, especially since he’d finally broken it off with Julie when she went off to art school.

He sometimes thought about Joey, but it was mostly about what they were going to eat for dinner- mundane topics that didn’t really matter. 

When he thought about Jake he was thinking about the things he’d like to do with Jake when he saw him next. 

They both liked exploring- could they go somewhere interesting that Jake had never been? Would Frank be able to even find somewhere that Jake hadn’t been able to explore yet?

More importantly, why did he want to impress Jake so badly?

He’d never really wanted to do something like that for someone before unless there were ulterior motives behind it. 

His feelings for Jake just felt wholesome, if he were to put a word to it.

And that meant that the first thing that Frank did when Jake was back in town, was text him to meet up.

Jake was back home from his first year of college, and hating every second of it.

Despite being older than Julie, Jake had put off college for a while to travel. He’d even said that his younger brother had started college before him- Jake was just kind of living his life as he wanted, and Frank found that admirable.

Frank was working some dead end job at a record shop, couch surfing at Julie’s friend Joey’s place since rent was so fucking expensive he couldn’t find a place without someone else’s help. 

It was all so frustrating, infuriating, really, but at least he had Jake coming home to look forward to- and they’d managed to get on top of the chalet to watch the stars. 

“D’you know anything about them?” Jake asked, lazily pointing a finger in the direction of a constellation above them, “The stars, I mean.”

The man was laying with one arm behind his head, and the other still gesturing vaguely towards different stars and planets.

Frank quickly raised a hand to hide the smile that twitched beneath his fingers.

“Not really,” He answered, dropping his hand to lean back into his palms, “Why, do you?”

Jake shook his head. 

“Not really, I always sucked at school, so nothing really stuck with me! Know enough t’know there’s aliens up there, though!”

Jake laughed as he spoke, turning his head back to look at Frank and offering him a cheeky smirk. 

There it was again- the look that Jake always gave him.

Frank did his best to ignore it. 

“Aliens, huh?”

Frank laughed as Jake rolled his eyes, sitting up so quickly Frank was worried he might accidentally push them both off the roof in his excitement.

“Mr. Morrison, you’re telling me that you of all people, don’t believe in aliens?” Jake gasped out in fake surprise, “I don’t think I could ever date someone that wouldn’t go on alien hunting adventures with me- I can’t believe you’re rejecting me like this!”

It took Frank a moment to process what it was exactly that Jake had said.

He’d never thought that there was a possibility that Jake would feel the same way as him- mostly daydreaming that he could find someone half as good as Jake that he could somehow convince he was worthy of their time and attention.

Normally, he’d do his best to throw something coy or sarcastic back, but this time he was at a loss for words.

“We’re dating?!” He choked out, eyes widening, “I had no idea!”

He hoped that this would come off as a joke, and not that he was slowly digging himself a deeper hole that would surely end in him being embarrassed, or worse, rejected, and losing one of the only friends he had left.

Jake shrugged. 

“Well, at least now I know it’s an option?” He offered, with a quirked brow, “You just have to admit you’re in love with me first.”

"Well, it’s a good thing I’ve fallen helplessly in love with you, then, hm?"

Jake swatted him on the arm.

“Oh, shut up!”

#My Writing #I hope this is ok! #Thank you! #Jake Park x Frank Morrison #Frank Morrison #Jake Park #Dead by Daylight fic #Dead by Daylight

[shedontsmelltoogooddarious]

Terrible studies and cold floors.

A drabble I wrote that's a mix of what I go through and Bella's first month in Hell.

Commander bowed her head in obdeince as she went back to reading from one of many tomes of Leviathan enscribed in flesh. It had been nearly a month since she arrived in Hell, or as she was told by Throat. Hell had no concept of time, save for the prolonging of agony.

She flipped through the pages, the words vile in her eyes. It was almost too much, even for an ex hardened soldier such as herself. The Hell Priest rapt his fingers on the table to gain her attention. "It is important to pay attention, to gain knowledge of being a-"

"Something I never asked for in the first place!"

She shot up from her chair. A pair of blackened eyes stared into her own, and caused her soul to die. "Do not make me regret choosing you, Bella."

For a month, Bella had been witnessing unseen horrors, grotesque mutilations and pure evil. She had been forced to drink his blood, devoure flesh. Her stomach churned. Suddenly, she just had enough. Before Pinhead could stop her, Bella threw the books to the floor as they released a pained oomph and cursed her as she fell to her ass and screamed.

A pair of heels clicked softly as The Hell Priest made his way around the table, stopping before her as she refused to look at him from her knees. He could see that was shaking, choking back sobs as her mind was overwhelmed. How could he have missed this? He too went through something similar, but in silence behind closed doors. Gingerly he lowered himself to sit on the cold stone floor.

"Take your time before you speak, but know that I am not angered by your actions…"

Bella peered at him, her body still scrunched together.

"I should be apologizing for placing so much pressure on you in so little time."

He offered her his hand, but it was rejected as she hid her face once more. "I..I can't take this anymore-"

Her words were barely above a whisper. Pinhead nodded softly, his eyes ever so watchful. She felt naked in front of him.

"That is understandable. You will become accustomed to Hell, but you don't have to bring direct pain onto others."

Bella was listening. She watched the Hell Priest move to only lay down as he closed his eyes. She did the same, her pale eyes watching him as his face was peaceful. "Shhhhh."

Pinhead made the sound as Bella closed her eyes as well. They lay across from each other, listening to drips against stone and fire crackling in torch light. Gingerly, she reached to touch his hand, grasping it as Pinhead gently squeezed hers in return.

They would remain there until Bella was ready to continue, and the Hell Priest would explain to her what the text truly meant.

#Hellraiser #hellraiser fanfiction #hellraiser fic #cenobite #pinhead #pinhead fanfiction #pinhead fanfic #pinhead fic #hellraiser fandom #slasher fandom #slasher fic #slasher fanfic #slasher drabble #dbd #dead by daylight #dead by daylight fanfiction #dead by daylight fic #angst fic #drabble #writeblr

[thecreelhouse]

I can be your rotten fantasy ☠︎︎🔪♡

Paring: dbd!Steve Harrington x Reader x dbd!Ghostface

Summary: In search of taking your sex life to the next level, Steve takes something that doesn’t belong to him, only for the consequences to be greater than either of you expected.

Word count: 3.7k

CW/Tags: Steve and reader being horny morons, rough sex (PiV), oral sex (m receiving), light impact play, bondage, dacryphilia, dub-con, dirty talk, knife kink/play, DBD references, Pyramid Head mention

A/N: this has been sitting in my docs since 2021, and I kinda forgot all about it until last night. This is Dead By Daylight based, but it can still be read without any knowledge of DBD! title is from body parts by bludnymph. happy reading, fellow horror sluts. <3

🔪♡ ︎♡ ︎♡ ︎🔪

“Wait, wait— did I show you what I was able to swipe?”

Your brows knit together, curious over Steve’s words. He takes it as a sign to reach into his back pocket, pulling out a mask to show you— Ghostface’s mask.

“Steve, how the fuck did you get this?”

“He keeps extras in the basement. I found one hiding in a locker down there during the last trial.” Steve smirks— the same way he always does with the small ounce of ‘cocky son-of-a-bitch’ he has left in him.

“He’s gonna kill you.” You murmur, watching as Steve puts it over his head, pausing before slipping the mask over his face. 

“Not much of a difference from how he usually does, huh?” Steve still looks too confident, while you cant help but look over your shoulder in worry that Ghostface is around. 

He wouldn’t be, realistically. The two of you aren’t even in a trial, and far away, safe from the killers. For now.

“Steve…” Your voice warns, ignoring the warmth in your lower stomach. “This could really get us in trouble.”

“C’mon, you said you had a thing for bad guys.” Steve mumbles as he leans towards your face, lips barely touching yours. You snort at his corny words, but he ignores that. “You’re the one that said you have a thing for being scared.”

It wasn’t a lie: you really did have a thing for being scared, in the right situations, of course. There have been times you felt … excited as you were cornered or downed by some of the killers. You weren’t sure what exactly did it for you— the stalking, the weapons, the darkness of the beings themselves …. There was always something that got you way, way too aroused.

Steve pulls the mask over his face, donning the signature expression Ghostface always wore. His rather soft touches became rougher, fingers digging into the skin of your hips where your shirt rode up. 

You’re flipped around, back against the wall, while Steve grasps your throat. A strangled moan escapes you as you try to hold it back, trying not to come off as so needy and desperate already.

It doesn’t miss Steve, though. “You do like this, don’t you?” His voice is muffled through the mask, but still low and laced with lust.

You shut your eyes before nodding hesitantly, squeaking out an affirmative sound. You can’t see Steve’s face, but you know damn well he’s still smirking under that mask.

Steve rolls his hips into yours, grinding his already hard cock against you. Again, you try to hold back a moan, but it still comes out in a fractured, shuddered, breathy mess. He gropes your breasts roughly, tugging at your nipples through your shirt with a firm pinch.

“F- fuck—“ You gasp, hands flying to Steve’s pants, immediately undoing them. Steve moves a hand down to yours, mirroring your actions. The two of you end up nude waist down quickly. 

The thing was, you never knew when you’d be summoned to another trial, so usually any sexual experience had to be rushed, just in case. At this point, you and Steve were pros at quickies.

“God, sweetheart… wish I had a knife to play with you some more,” Steve grunts as he runs the head of his cock along your wet folds. You hook a leg around his hip, giving him easier access to your entrance.

“Nex- next time,” You gasp as he presses against your clit. Steve chuckles lowly behind the mask, teasing you again by dragging his leaking head against your sensitive spot. “Steve, please, j- just fuck me alrea—“

Steve thrusts into you without much warning, causing you to scream out and throw your head back into the wall. He slaps your face, albeit still with his gentle touch, but it makes you clench around him regardless. 

Steve groans loudly as he keeps his brutal pace, knowing he’s close already, and you’re not far behind, squeezing him so tight, threatening to milk him dry.

 “Yeah… fuck…” His grunts are muffled, but you’ve never heard him so… feral. You can’t hold back the filthy cries spilling out of you, almost screams, as Steve continues drilling into you. “This was worth the risk.”

—————

As silence settled around you, your ears still rang, filling the void. Chest still heaving with deep pants, you wondered if you had ever run that fast in a trial before.

Exhausted, you let yourself collapse back into the overgrown grass underneath you. You made it through, you actually escaped. You should’ve been relieved you bypassed another gruesome death, but all that was on your mind was Steve.

The two of you became separated after the second generator kicked on, sprinting in opposite directions after a close call with Pyramid Head. After that, you tried keeping an eye out for any sign of Steve, but were unsuccessful. Eventually the timer ran down and you had to leave through the open gate while you still could. 

You could only hope that Steve made it through before you.

“Jesus Christ, the deaths aren’t permanent in this place, settle down.” You mentally scold yourself, dragging a dirt caked and blood crusted hand down your face. “He’ll be fine either way.”

 Even with the self reassurance that the deaths weren’t final, your exhaustion was slowly turning over into rage. Fuck these trials, fuck these goddamn killers, and the Entity can absolutely go fuck itself to hell and back as far as you were concerned.

The post-trial fatigue was always ruthless; you could feel your eyelids slowly closing on their own, muscles growing limp as your body relaxed from its fight-or-flight mode that was a part of your everyday life now. With all your strength left, you moved back to rest against a giant tree, one with yours and Steve’s initials carved into the decaying bark.

 “You could just wait here for him, this is your spot anyway, he knows where to find you.”

It’s unclear how much time passes since your eyes slip shut, but you let them flutter open at the sound of someone walking on the gravel nearby.

At first sight, you jump and yelp, falling onto your back on the ground. You begin to nervously laugh as you realize—

“Steve, give it up already.” You tease as he leans over you, while you look at each other upside down. He’s wearing the Ghostface mask again, but then you notice something new. “Did you steal one of his robes too?”

 Steve shrugs silently, and you have to roll your eyes. 

“What? Now you’re not talking either?” You lean up on the backs of your arms, staring into the mask’s pitch black eyes. “Should’ve got the voice changer to make it believable.”

His head tilts slowly as he continues to look down at you. Another nervous laugh slips past your lips.

“Very funny, Harrington.” You reach up to pull the mask off, but his strong, gloved hand pins yours down to the ground. You grunt in surprise. “Hey! A little warning when you wanna play rough. Jerk.”

His other hand grips your free hand, pinning down next to your other hand. Yanking them together, he positions them above your head, gripping onto you with one hand as his other hand reaches behind him. Searching quickly, he pulls a rope from god knows where, before sloppily tying your hands together.

“A- are we gonna pick a safe word?”

Steve continues binding your wrists together; the knot is a wreck, but still effective. He hovers over your trembling form, staring at you like you’re prey.

“O- okay… I can pick it—“ You sharply gasp as Steve swiftly slips a knife under your shirt, slicing up the middle of the fabric. The ruined shirt falls aside, leaving your bra exposed. “Fuck… fuck… okay— uh— entity?”

Steve’s shoulders fall, then begin to shake ever so slightly in a silent laugh. You roll your eyes and huff, but he nods regardless.

The knife is polished, like it’s never been used. It makes your skin crawl with terror and excitement. Steve rests it on your chest, flat side to your skin, still for a moment. Then he slides it under your bra, tugging the sharp side up away from you. The twist of the weapon with the pressure from your bra, tight against your skin, digs the blunt side of metal into your sternum uncomfortably.

Shivering, you hold still, apprehensive to make any detrimental moves. It takes a bit of effort, but the blade finally slices through the stiffness of the bra’s gore. Though the two of you are ways away from the camp, you still blush at feeling so exposed out in the open.

One gloved hand reaches for your chest, groping roughly. You wince at the sudden painful pace, but you’re not immune to the pleasure that follows, arching into his touch. The other hand holding the knife begins to trace teasingly along your skin.

“You uh- you know how to use that th- thing, right?”

Steve nods slowly, still silent. You didn’t expect him to be so… dedicated to the character.

The knife’s tip catches along your sensitive skin, just enough to prick the surface, but it still startles you, granting another gasp.

“Wait- wa- hold on—” You panic, but force yourself to stay still. You trust Steve, he’d never hurt you, but something about this all feels… off.

Across the softest part of your breast, the entire edge slides across, ever so slightly. It’s smaller than a paper cut, but it still stings enough that you wince.

You watch blood bubble up a little through the laceration, gulping in fear. You didn’t expect Steve to jump right into knife play, ever. He teased often, but he was too nice to actually do it.

Thinking about it all made you dizzy with pleasure, soaking through your bottoms with arousal. Steve slowly starts to grind his hips into yours, knife still teasing along the surface of your skin. It catches and scrapes every so often, leaving behind thread-thin lacerations along your torso. You don’t bother to hide the whimpers his actions earn.

“St- oh, fu- fuck!”

So distracted by the knife, you didn’t even notice that he undid your pants before slamming into you mercilessly. It takes you a moment to register the way he stretches you so suddenly, and then the wave of pain hits.

Your mouth hangs open, but you can’t find your voice, can’t bring yourself to form words. A beat passes before a raw, raspy scream escapes your throat.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve, what is your—“

He slams himself into you again, stealing the rest of your question. The knife comes up to your throat, blade just close enough to threaten you with fear and the possibility of consequence as it rests on your skin. You’re tempted to use your safe word, jarred by how fast the scene has escalated.

Terror running through your veins only heightened your arousal more; Steve throws his head back, releasing a strangled groan under the mask. 

That didn’t sound like Steve. … At all.

Your heart leaps into your throat at the sound, pure horror replacing every other feeling you had just moments ago.

 Eyes wide, you dare looking at the mask, fighting back moans as he pumped into you. “You… you’re- you aren’t St—-“

“Hey, sorry I’m late, that trial was a nightm—“

Your head flips to the side, unable to believe the sight just feet away from you. Steve, worn out, exhausted, dried blood across his features. 

 Steve freezes in place, eyes growing as wide as yours, silent in fear. You do a double take— to Steve, then Ghostface. Ghostface, Steve. Steve was never in the Ghostface costume, so that means—

“Surprise, sweetheart.”

 The gravelly voice confirms your fears, and you squirm under the stranger, with no luck on escaping. 

Steve begins sprinting over, his well intentioned hero instinct taking over by default, but Ghostface presses the knife closer to your throat. You do your best not to hyperventilate as the sharp edge sits against such a sensitive area, but you’re terrified.

 If you die outside of a trial, is the death permanent? Because this was not the way you wanted to find out.

“Watch yourself, Stevie.” Ghostface’s tone dripped with mockery, continuing his rough thrusts into you, earning faint, defeated whimpers from you. “They’re really enjoying this. Should feel how wet they get when they’re threatened.”

Steve’s face contorts into concern and rage all in one, eyes darting between you and the masked killer.

Meanwhile, you’re trying your absolute hardest not to moan while your eyes well up with tears. Of fear? Maybe pleasure? Guilt? You weren’t sure, but Ghostface is right, you’re enjoying this, and you feel filthy. 

“You just can’t stop soaking my cock, huh, sweetheart?”

Your mouth falls open, unable to find your words still. Before your eyes roll back, you glance over at Steve with shame and desire.

“Sit and stay, pretty boy.” Ghostface points to the ground with his knife, and Steve reluctantly obeys. While still drilling into you, he groans “This is what happens when you fuck around with my shit.”

“We di- didn’t—“

“I wouldn’t fucking lie now if I were you,” Ghostface pushes the knife just a little further, and this time you can feel it catch ever so slightly on your skin. 

You gasp, then a sob escapes you, to which Ghostface just laughs.

“Who are you trying to fool, slut?” He growls as clearly as possible through the mask, keeping his pace. “You just squeezed me so fucking tight when I moved the knife, don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

Another sob leaves you, but it molds into a moan, because he’s right. You like this. You shouldn’t, this is wrong on so many levels, but the way Ghostface continues to rail you, you go dumb as your mind goes blank. Nothing else matters.

Ghostface pulls the knife away from you, and you shudder a sigh of relief, though internally you’re kind of disappointed at the loss. He notices and laughs again. Laughs right in your fucking face.

Before you can process anything, he pulls out, leaving you empty for only a moment before flipping you over on your stomach. As his hand reaches to shove your face into the ground, he bottoms out in you, earning filthy noises from you both.

Steve is horrified, but he can’t look away. Was it shock? Was it anger? He wanted to step in and help you, but he was afraid the wrong decision would cost you your life.

And if Steve was being totally honest, he wasn’t sure how the rules worked outside of trials. Killers didn’t approach survivors outside of the hell the Entity conjures up. There was no way for him to know if that changed outside of trials, and he wasn’t trying to find that out by sacrificing you.

… And, if Steve was being totally, absolutely honest, he was finding it hard to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. He couldn’t figure out what the fuck was wrong with him, but he was well aware how twisted this was.

“S- Stevie—“ You whimper, trying to reach your bound hands out in his direction. Ghostface laughs again, pushing your face into the ground with more pressure. Again, your walls constrict around him, and you feel shame at how much you like the abuse.

“Oh, does the poor damsel in distress want their knight in shining armor?” Ghostface mocks, thrusting all the way to the hilt with no concern for how you feel. You feel gravel and dirt scrape against your face as he continues pounding you into the ground.

Something about that, all of that, just makes you even more wet.

Steve can’t help but let his hand palm himself through his jeans. God, does he look ashamed, but something about that just made your skin burn up even more.

“If your pretty boy wants to join in, by all means,” Ghostface snarks as he gestures towards you while staring Steve down. “But I call the shots.”

———

You’ve lost count on the amount of orgasms that’ve torn through you already. Somewhere around the fourth high, the one that rolled right into the fifth with no warning, that’s when your brain went fuzzy, deep in subspace.

“So cock drunk, you just couldn’t stop at one, could you?”

Ghostface’s gloved hand shoves you closer to his pelvis, causing you to gag on his length. He tasted of you and him combined, and that alone was able to drive you wild. Even better, Steve was railing into you from behind as Ghostface fucked your mouth, matching Steve’s pace.

“Pretty little thing needed to be spit roasted so bad.” Ghostface teases, admiring the way your wide eyes look up at him as he continues fucking your face, eyes rimmed with tears. “Bet you let everyone fuck you around here, huh?”

You groan around his shaft, his words causing you to clench up. That sets Steve off, moaning sinfully as he slammed into you. His fingers on the left hand grip the swell of your ass, desperate for something to hold onto for balance. His right hand holds the knife— Ghostface encouraged him to try some knife play— the length of the blade parallel with your spine.

 Every so often the blade scrapes your skin as he creates taunting patterns with the tip. You whimper, scared, but your cunt tells a different story. Steve continues fucking harder, harder than he’s ever fucked anyone before.

“Our p- personal little fuck toy,” Steve grunts; every so often he makes a comment with some dirty talk much tamer than Ghostface’s, but hearing him talk at all is enough to make the coil in your stomach tighten.

“I usually don’t— yeah, right there—“ Ghostface grabs your head with both hands, hips snapping into your face mercilessly. “I don’t usually share, pretty boy… Jesus Christ— but I- I’ll make an exception for you two.”

 Steve’s hips stutter— he’s close. His head lolls back with a deep, gravelly groan. “Th- they were mine first.”

The way they talk about you with objectification, as if you’re not even there, it humiliates you, sending you closer to yet another release. Your legs shake, and your arms weaken, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Ghostface twists his gloved hand into your hair, tugging your head up to stay on his cock. The pull is intense, causing tears to spill over onto your face, mixing in with the dried blood and dirt that already settled there hours ago.

 Ghostface ignores Steve’s claim, rutting into your mouth with all he’s got. Steve takes that as a challenge to one-up him, thrusts picking up to a merciless speed and force. The silence of the night around you is broken by all three of you grunting, groaning, and especially you crying from how good this feels. The filthy noises of your slick cunt sucking Steve in as his skin slaps against yours, and the gagging from your mouth as Ghostface continues fucking your face are dragging you to climax with ease.

 You’re drooling on Ghostface’s cock while you soak Steve’s, eyes rolling back as another orgasm hits you full force, causing your entire body to convulse as pleasure consumes every inch of your being. Steve finally spills into you, making a mess of your tight, velvety walls that continue to flutter around him, while a guttural moan escapes him. 

Light flashes quickly in your face; Ghostface has his fucking camera in hand, skillfully taking a selfie as Steve cums, and you’re crying with Ghostface deep down your throat. He’s definitely done this before, only taking one and sighing satisfied before he cums, too.

“Oh, fuck… good girl…filthy bitch.” Ghostface grunts as he shoots his seed into your stuffed mouth, saltiness hitting your tongue before you swallow, left panting as he pulls out from your swollen lips. “That was fun, sweetheart, but I gotta go score some kills.” He releases the grip on your hair, and you collapse into the ground.

Steve throws the knife to the ground near Ghostface, panting as he pulls out of you, watching the mix of your arousal with his drip out of you and pool on the ground below. 

“Next time you try stealing my shit,” Ghostface points his knife towards Steve, “You’re choking on my cock too, pretty boy.”

Steve ignores the way his threat stirs something within him.

 The masked killer stands, flipping the knife in his hand before sheathing it somewhere under his robe, walking away like nothing even happened. His tall, threatening figure dissolves into the mist by the edge of the forest, leaving you and Steve alone.

 “Jesus Christ, what the fuck just happened?” Steve breathes, pulling you towards him as he moves back to the tree you were waiting by earlier. Working on the knot that still holds your wrists together, he asks softly “Are you okay?”

 Gazing up at Steve as he pulls your back against his chest, he notices the mess your spit and tears made all over yourself. You’ve got small, superficial cuts along various spots of your body, your lips are cock-swollen, and bruises are forming already from where they both gripped and manhandled you. Above it all, you’ve got the most dazed, sleepy smile plastered on your face.

 “M’so okay, you?”

 Steve reveals a smirk he was holding back as he looks down at you. “That was… fucking terrifying, but at least neither of us died.”

 “Like you didn’t enjoy it.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut as you settle into Steve’s arms. 

“I’m not denying that.” Steve admits, kissing the top of your head. “Never stealing from him again, though.”

 “You better not steal from any of the killers ever again.” You murmur, sleep creeping up on you.

 There’s not much to do for aftercare out here, other than keeping one another company while giving comfort. You’re still a filthy wreck; tears, saliva, dried blood and dirt everywhere, while still dripping the mixed slick from Steve fucking you.

“Trust me, I won’t.”

 A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, but you break it before exhaustion can steal you for the night.

 “… You think Pyramid Head likes threesomes?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #steve harrington x reader x ghostface #steve harrington smut #ghostface smut #dbd!steve harrington #dbd!ghostface #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight fanfic #my fics

[cherry-writes-yanderes]

Bloodstained

cw: MINORS DNI, dead dove do not eat, gender neutral reader, yandere, noncon/dubcon thigh riding, blood kink, mask kink, light knifeplay, fuck or die lite™️, soft dirty talk, blood, mentions of murder, the reader is brutally stabbed, backstabbing (lol you’ll get it), physical assault, death threats, threat of wound fucking, horny Ghostie

Remember to like & reblog if you enjoy my work~ <3

word count: 1,939

The mist seemed a lot thicker than you remembered.

A constant reminder that you were indeed in the dark, as well as in danger. Especially after some asshole decided to make an offering to thicken it. You’d kill that bastard yourself if you could; but you can’t. You are a survivor, a mouse in the classic game. You couldn’t spill blood other than your own even if you wanted to.

Speaking of a cat and mouse game, you definitely felt like a mouse now. Especially when the cat was right across the dingy hallway, grasping another of your vermin brethren by the throat: Ace.

The man coughed as The Ghost Face held him high against the wall, holding his knife up against the man’s throat. The blade was as long as your forearm, glinting in the crude, broken down lighting of the old manufacturing building you were all thrust into for a trial.

A loud boom sounded through the building; a sacrifice had been completed. The hooks were cruel, and you unfortunately couldn’t get there in time to save your other friend.

You slowly peeked through the crack of the red wardrobe you were currently hiding in, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you heard Ace cough again, you supposed that it meant that Ghostface’s grip was now tighter on the poor man’s throat.

“Where. Are. They?” You heard the masked man’s muffled voice. His breathing was labored; chasing survivors around to murder them was obviously a tiring game. But you knew that the bastard enjoyed it. The last time you were against him he took a crude and bloody photo of you as a “keepsake”, according to him.

“W-Who?!” Ace croaked loudly, his legs kicking out in a weak attempt to try and fight off the black-clad killer.

“(Y/N), you stupid fuck!!” The Ghostface roars as he slams Ace against the wall, making the man nearly crack his skull on the dirty cement. Ace groans, choking and sputtering as he tries to get his bearings again after that attack that clearly made him dizzy. He knew that Ghostface was obsessed with you, stopping at nothing to get near you in every single trial you two were in together. The killer’s never been this angry though, and he was scared that he would get killed early from this crazy fucker. He knew that there was only one way to get out of this, and in the end, it was every man for himself.

You swallow hard has Ace slowly raises a bloody finger, pointing directly at the closet you’ve nestled yourself into. 

“No...” 

Your heart drops into your shoes, the killer slowly turning to face the closet as well. You hear him chuckle as he drops the squirming and injured man, letting him scramble up off of the floor and watch with wide eyes.

His boots sound heavy as they get closer to you, your eyes wide and your heart leaping out of your chest. You knew he was toying with you, there was no way that he ever wanted to go slow at anything. You were supposed to be scared.

The double doors swung open before you could even blink, and without thinking you tried to scamper away as if you even had a chance against him. You screamed as the killer grabbed at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and throwing you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

“Aw now, don’t run off now sweetpea, we’re just gettin’ started!!” Danny laughs as he sits on top of you to stop you from wiggling.

“NO!!!!” You scream out as you see Ace run off, tears streaming down your cheeks at the prospect of being alone with the lunatic that meant you harm. You wiggle harder, managing to break free from under Ghostface for but a fleeting moment before you feel something roughly pierce your shoulder blade... something sharp.

You scream as Ghostface’s knife pierces you, white-hot pain coursing through your body as you feel ribs crack and blood gush from the wound. You can hear him cooing loudly at you over your screaming, but you couldn’t fully understand what was being said. If you were being honest with yourself, you really didn’t care.

“Aww now, hush!!~ It’s gonna be fine! You’re gonna die anyways!” Danny laughs like it’s the funniest joke ever. He swiftly pulls the knife from your back, listening closely to your whimpering and crying.

He flips you over and you can hear him breathing heavily as he grabs your arms and blood gushes from your shoulder blade. “Y’know what, you sweet little thing? I wanna play just a little…” He chuckles, muffled by the mask as well as the blood rushing through your ears. “Ju-Just a little, I promise! That blood is... it’s fuckin’ hot...” He swallows, his mask getting closer to your face the more he speaks.

“Unluckily for you, though-” He grunts as he lays you flat and hovers over you, suddenly grabbing your neck and squeezing.  “You won’t be seeing my handsome face... This time around anyway~” He jokes as you cough and kick hard; a feeble attempt to escape again. You can feel your own sticky blood pooling on the floor from your open wound, and it made your heart beat even faster and your adrenaline flow, your body practically moving on its own.

As you struggle, you hear him softly grunt, as if he didn’t wanna mention what was wrong in that moment. You finally realize, and it’s horrid. In his efforts to cage you in and trap you under him, he had put his knee in between your legs, causing your sudden movements to rub against him. Was he... turned on by this?! What a fucking pervert... You stop in your attempts to move after that realization, opting to try moving your legs up to kick him in any way. That only made it worse, his breathing getting labored as he just watched you eerily with that goddamned mask.

“Hey!!!” He shouted suddenly, slamming your body onto the cold floor and bringing you back up again, holding you close to him. “Who fuckin’ said you could stop?” He asked deeply, his voice deep and smooth but sinister at the same time. The rubber of the mask touched your nose as he stared you down, your body shaking under such a dangerous gaze. He sighs, grabbing your hips as he sits you right on his thigh. You felt even more like a mouse, but now you were in the cat’s jaws.

“Move your hips, baby...” You hear him order, his breath heavy with anticipation. You don’t comply for a moment, staring him down in defiance. “Don’t make me fuck that bloody hole in your back instead, you little bitch.” Danny growls as he reaches around you to poke a finger in your gushing wound to make you squeal, which you do.

This time, you comply, knowing that him getting angrier would lead to a worse fate than this. You slowly move your hips over his toned thigh, your warmth rubbing against the fabric of his bloodstained pants as well as your clothing. Your cheeks were hot, and you had to admit that the friction felt good. But with someone who planned to kill you? Maybe he wouldn’t if you gave him what he wanted...

“That’s it, sweetness... Mm, you’re so warm...” He huffs desperately, his hands gripping your hips hard as he helps you along, pushing you down as he moves his leg for a better angle. “Yeah, that’s it... Good ‘lil baby...” He praises again and again as you ride him, a gentle whimper from the building pleasure escaping your throat without permission. You can feel your body reacting harshly to everything that has happened, truly obvious from the stain that has appeared on The Ghost’s pants. It all happened so fast, your brain was fuzzy. His hips started to hump against you, begging for some kind of attention in the place he needed you most.

You could hear generators being completed and the lights getting brighter. The other survivors were probably wondering where you were, and your heart stung from the thought that they might just leave without you.

Danny watched as you tried to quickly get yourself off, smiling under the mask at how funny this situation was to him. He never thought you would be this obedient... But he liked it. The killer knew that he should have done this sooner if you were going to be this good of a fucktoy!~ Leather gloves grabbed at your cheeks, squishing them and making your moans muffle just a bit as he forced you to grind on him faster. His index finger forces itself into your mouth, rubbing your tongue with vigor as he continues to move you. A twinge of blood from your wound coats your taste buds, and your warmth throbs from how good it tasted. “L-Look, sweetcheeks- mmh- I’m okay with not cumming this time... Just this once, y’hear?? But- shit, you gotta move just a teensy bit faster if you wanna get off by the time this is over!” Ghostface cackles hoarsely, gripping your hips harder still. You moan in response, panic flooding your being with a sense of primal urgency to not only cum, but to get out alive.

You suddenly hear the door alarm; the others had finished with the gens, but still no one was coming for you. You can hear them opening the giant door to escape. Your sense of panic grows, making your hips twitch with both desire and fear. “D’aww.. they’re leavin’ without you, honeybun... so sad!~” Danny croons playfully, groaning softly still as you continue to move on top of him. Your brain freezes over, the fear skyrocketing and making everything more... pleasurable? You weren’t sure how that could happen, but you let out a louder moan as you look down to see the Ghostface’s built thigh under you, rubbing on your precious parts with lust. You moan again, unable to contain the fact that your brain is beginning to melt into nothing with pleasure, your hips finally moving on their own.

Your moans get louder and louder, the indication that you were getting close spurring Ghostface on to grip you tighter, his leg moving in sync with your body to help you along. “That’s it! Cum for me, darling~” The killer calls. Your breaths get heavy, cheeks warm as the feeling building in your tummy finally snaps at his command. Your back arches as you cry out, your broken screams accompanied by the laughter of a psychopath.

“What a good baby!!~ You made me so proud!~” He coos, nuzzling his mask on your cheek as you come down from your high, your legs shaking and your hips twitching. He gushes over you, showing you the stain you left on his pants as well as yours, giving your cheeks a pinch with his leather gloves. You can barely feel anything as Ghostface picks you up, and you wonder if he’s just going to hang you on a hook and fuck you there until the Entity came to claim you. If you were being honest with yourself, you would rather that have happened.

Instead, he drops you right at the gate: wide open and welcoming you through to the other side. As a goodbye until your next trial, Ghostface jabs his finger into your wound, cruelly twisting as you writhe and scream on the ground. He cackles wildly, kicking you right in the gut to get you through the door.

“’Til next time~”

#ghostface smut #tw noncon #yandere ghostface #dead dove do not eat #ghostface dbd #ghostface #ghostface fic #ghost face #ghostface scream #dead by daylight ghostface #yandere boy #danny johnson #ghostface danny #mdni #yandere dbd #yandere dead by daylight #yanderecore #yandere fic #yandere fanfiction #yandere x you #the ghostface #the ghost face #dead by daylight #ghostface dead by daylight #danny jed olsen johnson #yandere smut #dbd smut #dead by daylight smut

[finalgirlbee]

thinking about. being childhood friends with danny johnson. like, you're just this shy, withdrawn, anxious little kid in class, and danny is this little spitfire tornado terror who gets treated like an outcast because he's just... a lot to handle. he's argumentative and doesn't like to share and gets pouty when things don't go his way. he's also way too smart for his own good with interests far outside the realm of what's considered "age-appropriate," which of course doesn't help the whole "relating well to other kids" thing.

but danny likes you because you're the only one who will listen to his stories instead of laughing him off or ignoring him. you don't talk much but danny likes it that way, preferring to read his stories to you (dramatic narrator voice and all) or just aimlessly rattle off new ideas while you listen with stars in your eyes.

maybe you like to draw, too, and sometimes you'll draw pictures to go along with his stories, which danny is absolutely THRILLED by. you spend many hazy summer afternoons deep in the woods behind his house, sitting on a log down by the creek with danny's big, beat-up notebook sprawled across both of your laps as the sound of your giggles intermixes with birdsong.

danny never knew how to approach or talk with other children. they're all so confusing. he doesn't understand any of them and he doesn't care to, but he understands you. you never make him feel confused. you're his only constant, his safety, his home.

other kids laugh in his face and call him a creepy weirdo. his teachers call him an impetuous little miscreant. you call him danny.

#idk i have a lot of feelings about him #i wanna write a whole fic exploring this dynamic into adulthood but who the hell knows if thatll ever happen lol #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface x reader #something something its you its always been you #dead by daylight x reader

[denaliwrites]

Little Creepy House

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Attic"

Summary: The Doctor really doesn't like attics. Unfortunately, that's where the alien of the week is.

Soundtrack: Walking on Air by Kerli

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oh, no," the Doctor groaned from behind you. "Why'd it have to be an attic?"

Indeed, the two of you, as well as the owner of the house (and the mother of the missing child you and the Doctor were looking for), were looking up into the dark hole in the ceiling that fed into the house's attic.

Even you had to admit that, staring into that deep dark shadowy black, you were a little nervous too.

Unlike the Doctor, though, you didn't hesitate to climb up the rickety set of wooden steps leading up. Your head popped up over the threshold, eyes scanning the dark quickly before you hauled the rest of you into the room.

"Bethy?" you called out into the dark. Everything sounded... strangely muffled, up here. Your voice didn't reach nearly as far as you expected, and when you heard the Doctor say your name, you swore it sounded like he was speaking through cotton.

"Bethy?" you tried again, louder, more alert now that you knew you had to really make an effort to hear things up here.

Which... was a little odd, wasn't it? You knew attics were sometimes creepy, full of dust and ancient furniture and vintage chests with skeletons in their wedding dresses stuck inside them.

But you'd never heard of a noise-canceling attic.

You were so busy thinking and listening that you forgot to keep an eye on your feet. Something in your path tripped you up and nearly sent you flying. Wheeling around, however, revealed that nothing was there.

Okay, but you knew the difference between tripping on an object and tripping on air -- there had definitely been something there a moment ago. You may not have seen it, but it had to exist somewhere in the vicinity.

A shiver cascaded down your spine in a way that reminded you of the time the Mean Girl in your class had dropped an ice cube down your shirt. In fact, you were pretty sure that the shiver even left behind a trail of cold sweat that only served to further mimic the memory.

"Doctor?" you called, turning back.

Wait, where was the entrance?

There should've been a glowing beacon of light emanating from behind you, but instead, just pure darkness greeted you. Enveloped you. Made you want to cry out for your mother.

"Oh, fuck this place," you growled to yourself, facing ahead and forging on, steps as determined as they were unsure.

"Bethy?" you shouted again after a minute or so, hoping that somehow it'd reach her this time.

Only silence greeted you at first, but then --

"Mom?" a tiny voice cried out, and you spun in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Mom?" the voice cried again. You swiftly turned to your left and all but ran ahead, not even caring what danger may lay in wait for you.

"Hey, hey, hey," you said comfortingly as you got nearer to where, to the best of your abilities, you'd calculated the voice was coming from. "I'm not your mom, but she sent me. I'm here to take you back to her, okay? You can come out, it's safe."

You thought maybe you'd been wrong, or that the girl had run away, or maybe that she was just considering her options, but only a moment later a small body launched at you like a missile and hit your body with force. Tiny arms circled your hips, and a scared voice whimpered into your shirt. You could hear sniffles, too.

Kneeling down to the girl's level, you pulled her into a hug and whispered comforting nothings for a moment. She needed a parent -- her mother, to be precise. But you were the best she had for now, so it was up to you to fill in the gap.

"Hey, it's okay," you told her, pulling away so that you could look her in the eyes, your hands gripping her shoulders firmly. "We're going to get out of here, and you're going to see your mom and give her a big hug. And I'm gonna see my friend and give him a big hug. Yeah?"

She nodded, trying to contain her sniffles while she wiped away her tears.

"Say it, Bethy. C'mon."

"Yeah."

"That's a girl. Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."

You stood and took her hand, then turned to face the direction you thought you'd maybe come from.

Well, that wasn't good, was it?

Unwilling to show your fear to the girl, you marched on ahead, gently tugging her along with you. For a while, the two of you were silent as you tried to navigate the dark. Then --

"Hide!"

And then Bethy was gone, quicker than you could even process what had happened. "Bethy?" you called, feeling panic rising in your chest. "Bethy? That's not funny -- where the fuck did you go!?"

There was no answer. At least, not from Bethy.

You could hear something, though, lurching closer. Each muffled, thunking step was accentuated by a rattling breath and a growing sense of dread. Suddenly, you understood why Bethy had told you to hide.

Instead of even trying to do that, though, your body stood frozen, eyes locked on a looming shape in the darkness.

A pathetic moan spilled from your lips as the thing moved closer, and you could finally see details -- though you wished you couldn't.

Its body was an ever-shifting mass of shadows, rippling and roiling. You could see limbs -- arms and legs of flesh, but they were unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The legs reminded you of Godzilla with how thick and heavy they seemed, while the arms -- well, if you had your wits properly about you, you would've compared them to a crab. One arm was massive and ended in a sickle-like claw, while the other was significantly smaller, and looked more like a proper arm -- though the fingers were also claws, just... smaller.

And its face was...

Well, you screamed when you saw it.

The scream was short-lived, cutting off as soon as its massive claw lifted menacingly into the air.

Oh, God, this is where I die, you thought. You weren't going to save Bethy, you were never going to see the Doctor again, or your parents, or anyone in your family, or your friends, or -- or anyone. Anything.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," a voice pierced through the darkness, the void, the hollow silence. It sounded dangerous. And it sounded an awful lot like the Doctor.

The claw froze in the air, no doubt only in hesitation, but a moment of hesitation was all you needed to move, to dive for cover somewhere far from that terrible, awful thing.

"That's better," the Doctor said from... somewhere. You weren't sure. Frankly, you kind of didn't even want to know. All you could say for sure was that, for this moment right now, you were safely hidden under a table, which just so happened to be covered with a white sheet, giving you an extra layer of security.

"Now, why are you in some poor single mother's attic, terrorizing her daughter?" the Doctor asked. All he received in response was the suffocating silence of this godforsaken room.

You heard the sound of the sonic screwdriver. The alien, or creature, or whatever it was, finally made a sound -- you thought it might've been a growl. It sounded... like rocks grinding together, but... garbled. Muffled. Like you were hearing it in impossibly deep water.

Your instincts told you to keep quiet, to be silent as the grave. Even quieter, actually, if that was possible.

That deep, gurgling growl, though. It sent such an intense wave of fear through you that you couldn't help the pitiful moan that came out.

There was a shuffle, followed by one of those awful feet stamping the ground. The alien had turned around.

"Oh, I really wish you hadn't done that," the Doctor sighed. "Run!"

You didn't need to be told twice. Where you were running to was a problem for future you, all you knew for the moment was that you needed to get the fuck away from that thing.

You only stopped running when something in the path tripped you and sent you flying towards the floor. You braced for impact, but other than a sharp hiss, you didn't acknowledge the pain. Instead, you turned sharply and grabbed at the thing that had tripped you.

Your hand wrapped around something cool and smooth, and when you drew it closer you saw that it was the leg of an old ceramic doll. Creepy, but harmless. But that didn't explain how it had disappeared earlier.

The wail it released sure did, though.

You shrieked in return, throwing the doll away into the darkness in fright. "What the fuck," you sobbed, "what the fuck. What the fuck?"

Only silence answered you.

Apparently, you'd run far enough away in this impossibly infinite attic that the alien could no longer hear you. Or the silence was so oppressive that even at near distances sound still couldn't pierce through.

Neither option seemed great, to be honest.

Regardless, though, you had to press on.

Rounding a corner, you were suddenly confronted with Bethy. She was facing away from you, looking down a corridor formed from stacks of boxes and furniture. You said her name quietly to let her know you were near. Big, terrified eyes turned back to look at you and she quickly beckoned you to join her.

You obeyed, crouching once you reached her side and looking down the corridor with her.

"It's the dolls," she whispered, pointing. You could just make out small shapes shifting in the darkness. "They won't let us through."

You sucked in a deep breath and released it as a sigh. "Don't worry," you told her, moving to a stand. "I got this."

Acting blithely unaware of your surroundings as you neared where you'd seen the dolls was surprisingly easy as, for the most part, you were rather unaware. However, your ears were honed into any slight sound that could possibly arise from those creepy little fuckers.

So when, miraculously, you caught the scratching of their little porcelain feet on the attic floor, you froze, geared up, and sent a powerful kick in the direction of the sound.

And you were met with the satisfying shatter of its stupid porcelain head.

More sounds started up, no doubt the assault on one had sent the others into a panic. But you were keyed in, and out for blood. Stomping, smashing, and crushing them was like a sport, and at the end of the match you'd destroyed about eight of them, and silence surrounded you.

"Bethy?" you called. "It's safe to come out now."

There was a quiet shuffling, and then Bethy was beside you, clinging to your arm to the point that it hurt. But you said nothing -- you were scared, too, and would probably cling to the Doctor the same way if he were there.

The two of you made your way through the attic, desperate for... well, anything, really. You were sure Bethy wanted the exit, and while you wouldn't say no to that, you were more interested in finding the Doctor.

You felt like you'd been walking for hours when you finally stumbled on the man himself. He was breathless, no doubt from running, but he grinned when he saw you. "There you are!" he said by way of greeting, pulling you into a hug. Then his eyes caught on Bethy, and he knelt down to her level. "And there you are! Your mum is gonna be very happy to see you."

If you ever made it out of this attic, anyway.

The Doctor made a sound at the back of his throat, and when you redirected your attention to him, you saw that he was looking at you rather seriously. "Any ideas?" he asked, eyes flitting for a moment to look at something behind you.

You felt the overwhelming sense of dread growing, and the fear kept you locked in place, unable to look back.

"No," you whimpered.

The Doctor moved closer, taking your face in your hands and forcing you to look into his eyes. "Hey," he said soothingly, smiling. You moaned in response. "Oh, now, none of that. C'mon. Be brave for me, yeah?"

Fear clouded your mind, and you could feel the thing behind you, could sense that claw hovering over you, ready to strike. But as the Doctor spoke, as more and more words of encouragement washed over you, the feeling started to recede.

And with it, you felt the monster retreating.

"K-keep talking," you told the Doctor urgently.

And he did, and you took his every word in, believed every word. As he spoke, and you listened, not only was the monster retreating but the darkness and silence followed it. You were starting to hear things -- birds chirping, a car driving by. A plane overhead. And you could see light beginning to filter in from... somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere?

All you really saw, though, was the Doctor.

He was grinning -- no, beaming at you.

"Look at you," he said, voice brimming with pride. "Defeating a monster that feeds off fear and isolation."

You released a relieved giggle. "No, that was all you."

"Oh, it wasn't," he told you, his eyes looking into yours. "My words would've meant nothing if you hadn't trusted me. If you hadn't believed me."

"Of course I trust you."

His grin broadened and he let out a breathy chuckle. "That's good, then. That you trust me. We would've been in a lot of trouble if you didn't."

You laughed. "I'd probably be dead."

"We can't have that," he said, suddenly serious again. For a moment you thought maybe the monster was back, but you blinked and when you opened your eyes, he was smiling again. "No dying on my watch, got it?"

"Trust me, I do not have any plans on doing that any time soon."

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant #canon typical peril #catch and release prompt #i wont say the alien in this fic is the dredge from dead by daylight #but i will say #its heavily inspired by the dredge from dead by daylight

[smol-dragon]

its me!!

#dbd #dead by daylight #susie lavoie #susie #kin #fic kin #:D !! #the legion #dbd kin #dead by daylight kin #susie lavoie kin #okay to reblog!!

[greenteasnoothie]

This is my first time making a request, but- hear me out.

Fem! Reader whose in a trial against Wesker and panics when he goes to pull her out of a locker- her solution to escaping his grasp? Slapping his ass. Whether it works or not is up to you-

How Wesker would react if you slap his ass during a trail

A/N: OMG ANON I LOVE THIS SO MUCH LOL AND OMG I'M HONORED THAT YOU DECIDED TO REQUEST YOUR FIRST REQUEST TO ME AAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(GIF is not mine)

Paring: DBD! Wesker X Fem!Reader

Genre: no clue maybe a little NSFT but idfk

Content mentioned: blood, slapping of bootys 😎

Wordcount: short

—------------------------------------------------------

“Two gens left come on, so close..” You tell yourself in your head while repairing one of the last two gens.

You start to feel your heart beating faster and louder the sound of blood rushing in your ears takes up all of your hearing. You look to the left and then to the right, that's when you see the killer…Wesker.

You leave the gen and start running for it, Wesker follows behind starting to charge up his Uroboros, you try to find a place where you can turn Connors and hopefully make it so he charges his uroboros to nothing because you keep on moving, but it’s all open where you are. Before you can even think of any other ideas he’s charging at you… and you just got pinned to a tree, you get out of his grasp and you RUN for it, you find a locker and hide in it hoping that maybe he won’t notice but nope he noticed. Wesker opens the Locker wags his finger in your face and pulls you out of the locker, now you're really freaking out. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but now you're so close to a hook, and you're starting to get tired..

SLAP

You pause, Wesker pauses and it seems you both are surprised by your action. Before you even process that you just slapped Wesker's ass he dropped you to the ground making you grunt.

You watch as Wesker walks away, is that blush or blood on his face?

———————————————————————

A/N (again): LMAOO SORRY THIS IS SHORT BUT I JUST LOVE THIS LMFAO THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST ANON

Also peeps I have a WIP post check it out if you want!!

(Btw people 😎 I’m open for emoji anons 😈😈)

© silly-little-fan-grll, 2023. do not repost, translate or copy my work.

#resident evil #albert wesker #resident evil fanfiction #dbd killer #dbd #dead by deadlight #dead by daylight #dead by daylight wesker #dbd wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker dbd #dbd x reader #re x reader #resident evil 5 #resident evil x reader #resident evil fic #resident evil wesker #resident evil 1 #albert wesker resident evil #wesker dbd #albert wesker x #stars wesker #wesker is my pookie #villain #looking for emoji anon #emoji anons #i miss my pookie wesker #re wesker #re5 wesker #wesker x you

[murderousxcoffee]

Amoricide [Dead by Daylight Dark Soulmate AU - Trickster/Survivor!OC]

Amoricide     The act of killing your soulmate Chapter 3: Crush Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Warnings: Blood, but that's about it

Shoutout to @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better for giving me the dopamine hit to go 'fuck it' and post this after having it finished for longer than I want to say.

Her mark was bleeding again. Sunshine grimaced, lifting her arm off the desk. Blood smeared on her skin and the old metal surface. She snatched a rag from the floor and wiped the desk off. The mark would take more effort. But with the music going, two more songs before her entrance, she had plenty of time.

Sunshine tossed the headset on the desk and rolled her chair towards the shelves on the opposite wall. She stopped herself with her foot, reached up for the bandages on the middle shelf, then rolled back to her desk with all her laptops and all her creations.

Running a radio station in the Realm wasn't all that easy. The first challenge was getting the place up and running. The second challenge was keeping it, and herself, safe from Killers and hostile Survivors.

The third challenge was finding music to play on the damn thing. Used to be she'd scavenge on her own, finding the technology that may still have musical gems hidden on it. Now she got other Survivors to do it, trading with them through the door, changing her voice so no one would recognize her.

It would be a shame for them to realize the truth, that DJ Sunshine was just boring, useless little Cortez.

As the music ended, she smiled into the microphone.

"Hello world! You're listening to WNTTY, the Fog. I'm your Sunshine! Let's talk."

And she talked, and she talked, and she talked. She talked like someone was listening, even though there was no proof of that.

"Thanks to your help, I've added several thousand new songs to my collection! Great work, all of you! Unfortunately a lot of them are not in English, so I have no idea what they're saying or who is singing them. I'll be playing batches of these now and then. If you recognize the language, song, or singer, leave a note at the station door, or text me at--"

She talked and talked and talked.

"Shout-out to the weirdo who sent me a dick pic, by the way. You're a real piece of shit, and I'm not gonna save you from the hook if we're in a Trial together. Asshole."

She talked. Talked. Talked.

"So here's your question of the day: is love real? Romantic love. Obviously you can love your family or your cat, but is that feeling you get with that one person an actual, separate kind of love? I think a lot of our emphasis on it is just marketing taking advantage of loneliness and a desire for sex. But hey, I've never been in love, what would I know?"

Talking, talking, talking. And as she talked, everything felt alright.

"Anyway! That's my thirty minutes up! We're back to two hours of sweet, sweet tunes. Let's start with early millennium America, jump on over to the British Invasion of the 60s, take a detour to Germany and South Africa, and finish up with the Korean Wave. I have no idea what half of these songs are talking about, but they're fun to listen to, so into the mix they go. Enjoy!"

Button presses, a flip of the switch, and there it was, Toxic by Britney Spears traveling through the airwaves. Sunshine exhaled and took off her headset, leaning back in her chair. There was something so satisfying about this job… And exhausting, too. She'd never been a people person, always insecure, but it was easier to work with them from the safety of her radio station. It was almost like she could be her true self.

The mark had soaked through the bandages. Sunshine raised her arm to look at it again. How was it that it could bleed for hours and she didn't feel sick at all? It never bled before she came to this place. Maybe the Entity had something to do about it.

Right. She stood from her chair and stretched. Bandage her arm again, check the perimeter, then… she glanced at one laptop in particular. She'd work on her secret project. The idea of it made her smile.

There were reasons to keep going, even in a place like this.

---

It'd just been lying in the middle of the street. He'd stopped, looking down at it, tilted his head to the side. An old radio, outdated by over thirty years, without a single dent or smear of dirt on it. 

A cute antique. Trickster took it with him, and if anyone cared, no one complained.

He wasn't much for old technology, but he could tell this was meant for Americans by how ugly it was. For such an influential country, they had hideous toys. But it worked. Somehow, the thing worked. Didn't make a sound, but at least it turned on. Trickster screwed around with it, fiddling with the knobs, and he smiled.

Music burst through. Trickster jerked back. He backed away from the table, part of him glad no one could see his surprise. Music - bullshit. How was that possible? He hadn't heard music on anything but his phone since…

The song stopped, and a voice came over the line.

"I'm your Sunshine!"

Trickster blinked, and listened.

He sat down, and listened. And listened. And listened.

"So I can't do any research on these guys, since there's no Internet here, but I'm really enjoying their sound. Like, I'll play it again when I take a break, so check it out - you hear the violin or something in the background? You wouldn't think about it but I think it adds a lot to the song, and the whole, y'know, theme of it."

Finally, he thought. Someone else gets it.

"I've really been thinking about making my own stuff, cause of this job. I mean, I don't really have anything better to do, aside from… die a lot."

How did a Survivor do this? He laced his hands under his chin, listening. Listening.

"I'll be honest, I can't play any instruments. I don't know anything about major or minor keys, that kind of stuff, but I've always really liked music. Music can keep you alive, you know? Well, not in this place but, I think you get me, right?"

"I do," he mumbled.

He listened. 

He enjoyed.

The station host left as quickly as she came on, leaving music in her wake. Trickster reached to turn it off… but didn't. She mentioned the Korean Wave… would she play one of his songs?

Damn it, he thought. Now I have to keep it on.

So he did. And when he hunted down his so called soulmate days later, it was one of the songs Sunshine played he was humming.

#dbd fic #dbd oc survivor #trickster x oc #dead by daylight oc #dead by daylight au #dead by daylight fic #dbd fanfic

[fairlyaltheticquails]

just come sit next to me

hey besties

felix richter x GN reader

cuddle fluff, felix is very nice and we love him 

warnings; minor language here and there, reader is a lil sad in parts

word count: 1440-ish

update 11/10: heavily edited

You swore every new day in this shithole was worse than the last.

Sometimes, it would be scorching hot, sticky sweat running down your back, the stench of burning filth, and blood filling your nostrils. Sunburns that never really stopped stinging. Sometimes, the cold settled in so deep the ache felt like it would never cease.

White flakes gently fell from the sky. Nobody remembered how long the snow had been falling. The bitter, biting cold had shifted in slowly, the snow not far behind.

Then, the fire went dim. The dead quiet of the forest combined with the low light from the campfire did nothing to soothe anyone's nerves. One crack from a lone branch, and everyone was on their feet staring into the perpetual darkness, making monsters out of the shadows. 

 While the warmth it provided when fully ablaze was minimal, it was something. And something was better than nothing when everything you owned was threadbare, dirty, and ripped in several spots. The chill had long since settled into your bones, and the pain from relentlessly shaking was now stabbing into your chest. The constant snow had begun to soak your pants and jacket only making you more miserable. 

Footsteps crack in the forest behind you. Leon jumps up on your left, deftly spinning to stare into the darkness for the cause of the sound. Zarina sits across from you but she just sighs and remains seated. You figure you have two options. It's either a killer being released to usher the few of you still at the campfire into a trial, or it's a fellow survivor. While one is undoubtedly less favorable, the days of darkness have made you numb to the never-ending fear. You turn and watch four outlines move closer to you.

Nea is the first survivor you can make out. Her neon blue bob and deep purple glasses stand out against her pale skin just enough that you can easily distinguish her. Next are Adam and Yui, quietly speaking in Japanese and walking in tandem. Lastly is Felix. Hands tucked into his jacket pockets, watching the ground and walking behind the group.

 You've always liked him. The other survivors did their best to make you feel welcome, sure, but he always went out of his way to be kind to you. He was probably your best friend in this mess. If you were anywhere but here, you would've liked to maybe go out with him sometime. You doubt you ever would have met outside of this place, but its a nice thought. So you cope with laughing at his jokes when he decides to make them, trying to accept his compliments without fumbling your words, and catching looks when his head is turned. 

Felix sits on your previously unoccupied right side and gives you a small smile. 

“How was it?” you inquire. His smile weakens a bit and he turns to look towards the flickering ashes. 

“We were close this time. Almost got out,” He sighs, pulling his hands from his pocket and resting them on either side of his legs. He rocks forward slightly before tipping his head towards you. “Anything here?”

“Nope. Unless of course, you want to count me freezing my ass off as noteworthy” you reply dryly. His smile gains a bit more luster and he lets out a quiet laugh, gently nudging you with his shoulder. Usually, you'd nudge him back. But today, the pain from the cold has made the action stir more deep ache in your body. You try to conceal the wince of pain, but he still catches it.

“Are you okay? What was that?” He asks concerned. He shifts his body so your knees are touching and you are almost face to face. His blue eyes are filled with sudden worry. Damn it.

“I'm fine! The cold is just really getting me today,” you admitted. He immediately moves to take off his jacket, but knowing him, you grab the front so he can’t. “That doesn't mean I want you to freeze too.”

Felix rolls his eyes and moves his jacket back into place. He begins to turn his gaze away, but he seems to have a thought before looking at you again. 

“Do you mind if I do something?”

“Um.. that's insanely vague, but okay.”

Felix scoots right next to you, close enough you can smell the tiniest trace amount of something like a rainstorm. He sticks his arm out behind you, waiting for your approval before dropping it on your shoulder. His eyes warm when you nod. He tightens his hold on you and adjusts to be more comfortable. He leans into you and begins to run his hand up and down your upper arm. 

You feel stiff, like one wrong move might propel him off of you, and you don't want it to end. You want him to hold you, and you want the stinging pain of the cold to be released from you. You try to force yourself to relax, to let go of the tension but your heart is beating out of your chest. You nervously glance around at the other survivors at the campfire. Nobody is even looking at you two, too preoccupied with their endeavors. You aren't even sure if they can see you with how dark it is. Felix's hand shifts from your arm towards your shoulder to continue the soothing motions, jostling your head just enough that it falls closer to his chest and low enough that he can rest his head on yours. You feel his slow breaths, his light stubble poking your scalp, and the warmth radiating from him. 

“Two people have a better chance of staying warm together, right?”. He phrases it like a statement but you can hear the question, the search for approval at the bottom of his tone. He's doing this for you, but playing it off as mutually beneficial. Your heart pains because of the sweet gesture.

You have become very aware of just how exhausted you are. The constant fight to survive, the dread and fear that looms over you, and the general misery everybody in this hellscape is forced to endure wear down on your body and soul like weights in the ocean. You know Felix feels it too, the exhaustion. His hand has become lazier, now barely moving, and his body presses more to you now than before, leaning against you for support. .He lays his free hand down, palm up, and waits. When you drop your hand on his, his hand closes on it. You tuck your head closer to his body. You both sit silently, basking in the other's presence.

You don't remember when you fell asleep. But when you wake up, you two are alone at the now blazing campfire. Felix is still sleeping, his body heavily tipping into you, his hand still grasping yours. The areas your bodies touch are sleep-warm, and his usually perfect hair is ever so slightly messy. For the first time in a long time, the crease in-between his eyebrows has vanished. 

This realm sucks. You miss home with every fiber of your being sometimes. But it was in little moments like this, the horrors fled your mind, and maybe, for half a second, you were happy.

#felix richter x reader #felix richter #dead by daylight fic #i tried to make this super gender/race/age neutral but tell me if you have suggestions!

[gothy-froggy]

SO

Back in the day,

(Jingle jingle jingle)

Back in the day

Before THE KNIGHT had fan fics about him,,,,

Okay?

(Jingle jingle)

Pay attention

Pay attention

I said your favorite word

TARHOS KOVÁCS

O k ?

THE KNIGHT ?

(Dingle dangle dingle dangle)

Ok before he had fan fics-

#tarhos kovács #dbd #dead by daylight #dead by deadlight #alejandro santiago #dbd the knight #fan fic writing #durkos malecek #dead by daylight x reader #sander rault

[ell-clavel]

Happy Valentine's day to you and the people you love <3

#reference in comments #saw the original on twitter and knew I had to draw them #plus i vividly remember a riconti fic about Ace stealing the blanket...👀 #art #my art #dead by daylight #dbd #riconti #felix richter #ace visconti

[petite-phthora]

Take care...

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 11]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Their first stop was a small café near Robinson Park; Alysia's Boba Bar & Café. After each of them had placed their order, with Jason paying, saying it was ‘his treat’ and that ‘he had promised he’d be the one paying earlier’, they took their food outside.

They did get some stares from the customers and employees, mainly aimed at Jason who’s wearing his Red Hood gear, but they just ignored them minus some intimidation from Jason from afar.

Though, Jason wasn’t quite sure if Danny actually ignored them or just blatantly didn’t even notice them.

Either way, they were currently sitting on a bench in the park. Jason had taken his helmet off and put it next to him so that he could eat, still wearing his domino mask anyway. He’s also still wearing the watch Danny had gifted him.

And he’s never taking that off, holy shit he loves it so much.

Danny is sipping on the leftovers of his boba, having already scarfed down his sandwich. Jason starts his tour, telling him about Robinson Park and pointing out Gotham Zoo right next to it.

After they’re both done with their food, Jason puts his helmet back on and they get back onto his motorcycle so he can point out important landmarks while driving around.

Jason and Danny proceed to chat a bit during the ride as well, just some basic stuff to get to know one another; favorite color, favorite food, how they would disarm someone with a gun and de-escalate the situation, opinions on otters and how they hold onto each other so they don’t drift away, favorite movies, etc.

And Jason is desperately trying to focus on driving instead of Danny’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

---

"Over there is the Iceberg lounge."

Danny’s gaze follows where Jason is pointing, falling on a big two-story building with a sign on the outside reading ‘Iceberg Lounge’.

"It's a nightclub owned by the Penguin, one of Batman’s rogues. It’s mainly just a front for his criminal activities, but the nightclub itself is actually pretty good to be fair. Bit posh though"

---

"See that big tower in the middle there? That's Wayne Tower. It's basically the office building of Wayne Enterprises, the company owned by Gotham’s very own multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne." Red Hood says, sarcasm dripping off of his words at the end.

Danny lets out a small non-committal hum.

“You don’t sound too fond of him” Danny inquiries curiously.

“I’m not“ Red Hood states, not elaborating in the slightest.

Danny tries to lighten the mood a little “Well, as long as he doesn’t try to adopt me I guess he’s still better than another millionaire I know.”

Danny smiles as he hears Red Hood laugh.

---

"Over there’s Gotham City Public Library. It’s one of my favorite places in the city. I tend to go there at least once a week. They’ve got a ton of books and are willing to order any they don’t have at request. There’s also some computers there that are free for public use."

"You like reading?" Danny asks curiously.

"Mhmm. I'm mainly in the classics like Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, etc."

“Oh, nice. I don’t usually read much. English was basically my worst subject at school, but the teacher was pretty good. Kind of ended up being one of the only ones in my corner and he really tried his best, y’know?”

“He sounds pretty nice. Is there a reason you haven’t read much, like lack of interest or…?” Jason trails off questioningly.

Danny shrugs “I guess I never really had the time as a teenager, with an added lack of motivation on top. And now… I guess I don’t really know what kind of books I’d like or where I should start.”

“I could recommend you some? If you want me to?”

“Sure, that’d be nice”

---

"The large building over there is Arkham Asylum. It's basically a psychiatric hospital. Batman dumps all of his rogues here, though they keep breaking out."

"Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place. My older sister applied to work here"

"Dr. Jasmine Fenton?" Jason questions, even if he was already pretty sure who Danny was referring to.

"Mhmm,” Danny nods, “she recently gained her doctorate and wants to be a psychiatrist at Arkham"

"... I wish her good luck" Is the response Jason decides on.

"I’m sure she can do it" Danny proclaims, somehow embodying the :D smiley face.

Jason considers the possibility of her having similar meta powers to her brother and decides that if she does she'll probably be fine.

Not to mention she has Danny in her corner… And Red Hood now as well.

---

"What's that building over there?" Danny asks as they're driving on one of the roads on the outskirts of the main part of the city.

Jason looks at where he's pointing, spotting the manor.

"That's Wayne Manor. Do you remember that millionaire I mentioned earlier? The one that owns Wayne Tower and WE? That's where he lives."

Danny sounds a little surprised as he asks "He lives in that huge building? All by himself?"

"Well, not really. He has some kids, most of whom are adopted though you wouldn’t believe the field day the press had when it was found out he had a biological son. Besides them, he also has a butler that lives at the manor”

Once again, it seems Danny has noticed Jason’s standoffish attitude at Wayne, as he tries to lighten the mood a little.

"That manor is still way too big for all of them. Like what are they doing with all of that space? Are they hiding something? I bet they have a huge secret basement underneath the manor with some kind of laboratory and some shit. Millionaires seem to love those."

Jason lets out a surprised laugh at how on-the-nose Danny is, making Danny grin at his successful attempt to lighten the mood a little. Though it makes him question for a little bit…

He doesn’t know, right? Or does he…

"You know, I think the manor is actually missing something" Danny speaks up again.

"Oh? And what’s that?" Jason asks with humor in his tone.

"It would look way better TPed" Danny states confidently, bearing a mischievous grin.

Jason barks out a laugh, a sharp grin on his face.

"Let's save that for the next date, Doll"

Danny lets out a slightly giddy laugh, his cheeks red and heart beating just a little faster at both the 'next date‘ part and the unexpected, but not unwelcome, nickname.

---

“And this,” Jason says, as he gestures proudly towards the streets around them, “is Crime Alley, which is my turf in this city. I’m the one protecting this place.”

Jason had brought Danny to Crime Alley as the last stop on their date.

“Oh yeah!” Danny speaks up. “I was wondering about that!”

Jason turns to him questioningly and Danny takes it as a sign to continue.

“Yeah so, why is it called crime alley?” he asks curiously with a tilt of his head.

Say what now?

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Are you serious?” Jason asks genuinely curious, gesturing at the drug deal taking place behind them, the mugger that’s running past, and towards the right where gunshots can clearly be heard.

To his credit, Danny doesn’t falter at all, giving Jason a smile and continuing.

“Yeah, I thought it was called Park Row or something like that. Did it get renamed?”

Jason closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before letting out a strained “Something like that…”

He takes another deep breath before looking back at Danny, who’s still looking at him with a bright smile.

“Is there really no reason you can think of why this place would get nicknamed crime alley? Not one reason at all? None?”

A small explosion sounds and some metal shrapnel falls in little pieces around them. A car tire rolls past. Danny and Jason don’t look away from one another.

Danny ‘grew up with mad scientist parents, an OSHA-violating lab in the basement, fighting ghosts, causing property damage, evading ghost police, fighting a king, is pretty certain his parents have been committing some kind of tax evasion for their research funding, etc., etc. though none of that was really an excuse as his friends and sister didn’t turn out quite as blind to danger as him.’ Fenton thinks about it for barely a second before shrugging.

“No, not really. Why?”

“This is where the Joker attacked you.” Jason tries pointing out, causing Danny to take a good look around them.

“Oh, that’s right! I was wondering why this place looked so familiar! I gotta say, it looks different in the daylight. But I mean, that attack could’ve happened anywhere, couldn’t it? What’s so special about this place?”

God, how can he be so smart yet so stupid?

Now is really not the time to kiss him, Jason.

“It’s… just a nickname, given to the district by the Gothamites. Poverty runs rampant and the crime rates here are… above average, let’s say, when compared to the rest of Gotham. Only old rich folks still call it Park Row” Is what Jason decides to say.

“So yeah, it’s probably best if you try to avoid this place, especially at night. Though God knows you can handle yourself, considering the way you went at the Joker” Danny snorts at the innuendo.

“It’s still better to be safe than sorry and keep away from this place, unless you’re with me. The people around here know better than to mess with me and the people I’m with, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Hmmm, are you sure the crime rates are higher here?”

On their left, a guy dressed in a gray hoodie with suspicious dark red stains on it runs at a car, gets in, and drives off as fast as he can with the car alarm still going off.

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll try to keep that in mind then”

God have mercy.

---

Red Hood had driven them back to Danny’s apartment after their date in order to drop him off. Meanwhile, Danny is still not quite over the fact that he can actually call it a date!

After they both get off of the motorcycle, Red Hood walks him the few feet to the front door of his apartment building, and it’s time for them to say goodbye again.

Do they kiss now? Or should he wait till the next date?

Danny really wants to kiss him right now.

But he’s wearing his helmet so it would be awkward as fuck.

Especially if he had to ask Red Hood to take it off.

No, Danny can’t do that. Just no, he’d have his second death, this time of embarrassment instead of electricity. It’s some variation at least?

“See you later, —”

Danny cuts himself off with a not-so-subtle fake cough, cheeks heating up in embarrassment at what he was about to say. He had almost let out another cringy animal-themed goodbye, just like last time.

Great going, Fenton. Despite not going for the kiss, he still managed to almost fuck it up.

It’s like he’s digging himself a bigger hole by the minute.

Red Hood stops walking and pauses. Seeing this, Danny lowers his head to stare at the ground, his body stiff.

---

Jason can’t quite believe he’s doing this, and if any of the bats heard him, he’d never hear the end of it. But… to put Danny at ease…

“Take Care, Polar Bear”

The sentence makes Danny snap his head back up immediately. His mouth is slightly open, as though he’s trying to come up with something to say and failing.

Not waiting for Danny to answer him, Jason starts moving towards his motorcycle again.

Danny, with his cheeks still slightly red, stares at the leaving figure of Red Hood. His gaze is full of adoration, as he just falls a little deeper for the helmed vigilante.

Jason is thankful the helmet obscures Danny’s view of his blushing face as he gets on his motorcycle. He gives one last wave to Danny before revving the engine and leaving for his apartment.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #ah the cringy animal goodbyes #it’s becoming their thing ^-^ #also #the crimes that are happening around them are a bit of an exaggeration #and usually there wouldn't be this much happening in the daylight and with Red Hood around #plus normally Jason would've probably done something about at least some of it #but i wanted to add this stuff in for the comedic sense of the scene #oh and I know I usually try to keep chapter length consistency #and like i know this chapter is longer than the rest #but I just really wanted to include that last part into this chapter #and I didn't feel like cuttin9 the chapter in half #so yeah #like I've had the last part of this chapter written since like chapter 6 #but I just kept adding in more in between scenes to make the story flow a bit better #while writing this chap i was really unsure if it was date-y enough #so let's hope i managed it :)

[the-oracles-maw]

macushla

Playing cards with the Deathslinger

My first DBD fic!! contains: killer!reader, just straight up peepaw Caleb save a horse...

You could say you've settled into your role in this strange new world.

It's routine. You find yourself... somewhere. The Entity starves. It's your responsibility to feed it. When it is sated, you're sent back to the campfire. The Entity's food? You don't care to know. You've grown numb to it.

You've seen others who have a similar role to yours. Particularly two men and two women about your age. The thrill they get from their assignment by the Entity. Licking the blood from their knives and bats. As for you? Your eyes just linger on your hands coated in red. They would definitely be stained.

Your cohorts weren't much for conversation, save for the aforementioned killers your age. They were often met with a grunt or a cold shoulder.

Which is why you pondered endlessly about this bond you created with the Deathslinger.

Caleb thumbed through the deck of cards, dealing them between the two of you with almost impossible dexterity with rotting fingers. He never spoke much (perhaps that's what made it so easy for you to open up to him, you fear you'd annoy the old man.) When he did speak, it was an odd voice: a midwestern drawl somehow with a heavy Irish accent. It wasn't unpleasant.

His lips rise into a ghost of a smile and even his entire face seem to barely light up as you play your hand.

"'Might be the only person your age who knows how t' play twenty-five."

"I don't know," you shrug. "Back home we'd text each old games as a gimmick. I'd imagine there's a couple kids who know how to play because of that."

"Bah," Caleb waved his hand. "That don't count. Come on, now! Nobody appreciates the simplicity of the classics no more."

You shrug. "Guess not."

Caleb gives you a crooked smile. "Ain't many young folk like you no more, mo chuisle. I taught you well."

Caleb called you that a lot. Mo chuisle. A little more often than your actual name. And you were the only person whom he called by name. You never asked him what it meant.

Your conversations often went like this. Caleb would crack an uncharacteristic joke about your age, sometimes when he was in a good mood, you supposed within earshot of the group of friends called the Legion.

"What surprised me the most," you began, "was how sloppy they were." You eye the hand you intend to trump on Caleb. "It's like they're just sticking their hands into the live wires until something works."

"Suits you, don't it? Make it easier on you?"

"Eh, I think I prefer the challenge." You knew that was what exactly Caleb wanted to hear. His broken jaw made his proud smile comically lopsided. You fan out the cards you intend on trumping Caleb with, and he raises a brow, putting down his hand.

"You sure about that?" He asks lowly, eyeing your hand quizzically.

"What?"

"I think you should look at that hand again, mo chuisle."

You look at your cards again, and notice a fatal fumble in your hand that would have cost you the game. You fight a blush you feel coming onto your cheeks and sheepishly pull back your hand. "Huh..."

"Come on now, you know better than that."

Caleb wasn't sure what he saw in you. Or why he gave you such special treatment. There were a few "killers," he supposed that were around your age. A few too many, he supposed. What made you different? Was he unconsciously reminded of someone from his past? Did he think you were weak and needed protection?

He wasn't sure what it was about you that tugged at whatever was left of his heart that endeared him to you. It felt natural. He needed to protect you, and he didn't know why.

It was best he'd kept it that way.

"Look here," Caleb fanned out his set of cards for you, continuing on with the game you both briefly forgot you were playing. "I reckon we jink this, mo chuisle."

Mo chuisle.

Maybe one day, he'd tell you what your little nickname meant. One day, if you all somehow get out of here, or, when eventually, this dark God decides to turn on you all.

— mo chuisle: "my darling" "my blood" literally means "my pulse." macushla: the song where "mo chuisle" comes from.

#yeehaw #the deathslinger #Caleb quinn #caleb quinn x reader #deathslinger dbd #dbd x reader #dbd x you #Caleb Quinn x reader #Caleb Quinn x you #Caleb Quinn dbd #dbd deathslinger #dbd killer x reader #my writing #writeblr #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dbd killer #peepaw caleb #platonic x reader #irish language #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x you #slasher x reader #slasher fic