#anna x reader

[rippersz]

𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)

(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore. 

They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you. 

Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety. 

—

Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed. 

Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby. 

But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while... 

Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh. 

You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh. 

It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to. 

You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience? 

Thinking about it gave you a headache. 

For where was the point in wondering? 

You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because- 

Because-

Wait. 

Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of… 

“Fuck.” 

You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right. 

“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood. 

You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill. 

There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy. 

“Help! Help!”

Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell. 

A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength. 

“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet. 

In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.

“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.  

The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you. 

Too late. 

You were too late. 

And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead. 

Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage. 

 Too late. 

You were too late. 

You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed. 

But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you. 

Something–a sound–made you freeze. 

It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement. 

Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag. 

Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did. 

The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then- 

“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap. 

“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere. 

You shook your head.

“Words. Use them.” 

“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle. 

“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life. 

“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.

“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.” 

“And the others?” 

You blinked. “Others? What oth-”

“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent. 

Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in. 

“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.” 

The gun still didn’t move. 

“They don’t ambush. What really happened?” 

Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away. 

But you didn’t. 

You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures. 

So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth. 

“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.” 

“How long since?” 

“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own. 

“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned. 

Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.

“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-” 

Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world. 

“-we can’t just leave them-” 

“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”

“-not stupid. We need more people-” 

Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window. 

“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone. 

With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.

“Woah-” 

“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?” 

The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told. 

“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade. 

But she didn’t move. 

It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak. 

“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed. 

Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went. 

“More like a rat.” 

And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.

You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you. 

“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot. 

With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest. 

You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked. 

“Um- thank you for-”

“Shoot them.” 

“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched. 

“You heard me. Shoot them.” 

“Pha-”

“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?” 

“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off. 

“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”

You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude. 

“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact. 

Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming. 

“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers. 

“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-” 

“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return. 

“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view. 

As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.

—

“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep. 

Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun. 

“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word. 

Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you. 

“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass. 

The grass. 

You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-

oh.

Oh. 

You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit. 

How fucking lucky were you? 

“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance. 

Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that. 

After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger. 

—

“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead. 

It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.

Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.

“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches. 

Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her. 

“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms. 

The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.

“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall. 

You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps. 

“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority. 

“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline. 

The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck. 

“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up. 

“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.” 

“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group. 

“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself. 

That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.

“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway. 

Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue. 

“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.” 

Lucifer? Naked under the what? 

You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and  crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were… 

“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?” 

“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?” 

“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”

“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.

“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.

“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?” 

Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.

Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body. 

“Okay. Yes. Sure.” 

“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider. 

“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors. 

You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you. 

“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes. 

Red lips twitched. 

“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.” 

“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.

“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder. 

“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.

You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up. 

“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.” 

You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat. 

“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully. 

You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right. 

Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat. 

“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.” 

A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard. 

“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through. 

“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang. 

“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.” 

“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips. 

Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done. 

“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time? 

“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa. 

“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?” 

Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded. 

“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted. 

“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.” 

Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath. 

“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.

“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it. 

And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you. 

Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence. 

“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.

“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.” 

She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.” 

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow. 

It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away. 

“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.

At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering. 

“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant. 

Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand. 

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.” 

It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts. 

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Far too many names to tag. Find it as you come.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #wlw fanfic #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie characters #larissa weems #captain phasma #jan stevens #lucifer morningstar the sandman #brienne of tarth #jane murdstone #anna welcome to marwen #miranda hilmarson #x reader fanfic #x reader fic #x reader #larissa weems x reader #phasma x reader #jan stevens x reader #y/n #x y/n #jane murdstone x reader #anna x reader #miranda hilmarson x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #lucifer morningstar sandman x reader #lucifer morningstar sandman #got brienne

[daughterofyeshuaa]

Hi! You're still accepting requests, right? If yes, can I ask Wesker, Trickster, Nightmare and Huntress with master of disguise!killer S/O? Basically, Reader can disguise themselves as survivor and targets won't find out until it's too late. Bonus if they call themselves "Chameleon".

Hello! Yes I do accept requests :3 thank you for sending in!

Albert Wesker

You may think he has a hard time figuring out who's who when you disguise yourself as another survivor

But he's smarter than that

He can easily tell when it's you or the actual survivor

Finds it pretty cool that you call yourself the "Chameleon"

Ji-Woon Hak

Finds it pretty cool

He can't really tell when it's you or when it's another survivor

When he sees its you, he gets happy

"Oh my little songbird! How happy I am to see you~"

Freddy Kruger

Kinda impressed

Definitely can tell when it's you

When he sees you emerging from your survivor form and attack the survivor, he cheers you on from the sidelines

Your #1 supporter tbh

Anna

Her brain cannot process it

So.. You can shapeshift?

That's cool

Not as cool as throwing hatchets tho :p

J/

No but seriously, she can't fathom the idea of shapeshifting into other survivors

She finds it very confusing and can't understand it well

She finds your little nickname cool though!

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dead by daylight #albert wesker x reader #the huntress x reader #Anna x reader #Freddy Kruger x reader #ji woon hak x reader

[kiana-kaslana-423]

I just finished the new event and i'm now completely obsessed with Jessica then i saw that you do requests for reverse 1999, specifically Jessica(*^-^*) So could i request yandere Jessica with a reader who loves trying to escape but always gets caught?

Yandere Jessica x Escapee! Fem Reader

☆ Female Reader that's loves trying to escape ☆

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

Yes!! You are my first Reverse 1999 request!! And I'm very happy that someone's obsessed with her like I am— like I have more than 50 wishes saved for her-

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

!! Not comfy with men will block on interaction !!!

• Jessica didn't understand why you kept trying to escape! She finally found someone she loves that's not Jennifer but they keep trying running away,,

• She would always ask if you were unhappy with something or someone every time she caught you and dragged you back to her cave, but you would always say the same answer! You want to leave and if you did say anything else, you were not satisfied with it for long..

• This started to make her really stress since she couldn't satisfy you and your her mate! What type of partner is she if she couldn't make mate satisfied??

• She thought about this for a while until it eventually clicked in her brain that you were just playing hide and seek!! That's all you wanted to do!! You weren't trying to leave her! You just wanted to play hide and seek without telling her!!

• Oh how stupid she was for thinking you ever wanted to leave her! You love her and she loves you!! You two were made to be!!

• With this mindset it made Jessica more calm and she had fun chasing you and recapturing you every time! But now with this mindset, she won't take what you say seriously since now she thinks that it's just a game that you want to play-

• But honestly a happy Jessica is better than a sad or angry Jessica- you don't want to know what was going through her mind when she was thinking about how to make you stop running away,, it maybe involved a mallet and your legs....

#reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse: 1999 x reader #r1999 #r1999 x reader #re1999 #re1999 x reader #Changeling #Jessica #anna #Changeling reverse 1999 #Jessica reverse 1999 #anna reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 Changeling #reverse 1999 Jessica #reverse 1999 anna #Jessica x reader #Changeling x reader #anna x reader

[wifeyifey]

Little Moments

Dbd x fem!reader

Authors note: pretty sure I didn’t use any fem pronouns, but I don’t wanna label it a gn!reader just in case I did. If anything I’ll go back and edit later.

Edit: I fixed it to be gn!reader to be more inclusive!!

Anyways pure fluff 

Characters: Trapper, Huntress, Deathslinger, Ghostface, Hillbilly

Trapper:

I feel like this goes without saying, but you’re definitely stuck in one of his traps. You were the last survivor and that was intentional. See, Evan gets a little excited with you in his trials. You both aren’t together… yet, but he likes to think it’ll be sooner than later. He cares for you, that’s for sure. You both have little moments here and there that can be sweet. They’re just a little too short for his liking. He hopes you enjoy those moments as well. He was still on the hunt for you, trying to find you, but this map was getting too confusing for him at the moment. He heard your whimpering and quickly went in your direction.

You look up at Evan and whimpered a small “Please help me out. It hurts, Evan.” He kneeled down and quickly opened the bear trap, releasing your leg. You didn’t miss the fact that he brought over a med pack. He wrapped up your leg gently and picked you up over his shoulder. “Excuusee me, sir. I think we both know you don’t have to hold me like this when we’re the only two people here,” you said with some sass and a small, but harmless smack to his back. Evan chuckled and instead of holding you like the royalty you are, he gave you a small, not as harmless smack against your ass. You squeaked from how hard he smacked it and pouted when he didn’t change his hold on you.

You guess you can live with it since you notice he’s passing all the hooks and gingerly avoiding his traps. You notice he’s heading towards the hatch and you try to prop up the top part of your body so that you slide down a bit in Evan’s grip. He grunted and caught you with his other arm, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist and you smiled at his mask. You put a lil kiss on his masked cheek and he turned his head towards you. “See you back at your place?” you ask as he puts you on your feet gently. He put a hand on your cheek and gave a small nod. You smiled again and went in for a quick hug. As you both pulled away, you gave a small pinch to his butt, making him jump and you quickly ran towards the exit with a giggle.

Huntress:

It had been a while since you were in a trial with Anna. Not that it put you at ease, but it certainly made you feel a little less stressed considering she would wait, only jokingly chasing you at times until she saw another survivor. Soon enough there were only two survivors left, one of them being you. You tried helping Leon, but he didn’t want you to risk yourself for him. You both were working on the last generator when you heard her humming in the distance. “Finish the generator, I’ll get her to chase me for a bit. Be careful.” Leon said as he ran away towards the humming. You were always surprised by how nice Leon could be towards you, even at the end of the trial and even when you guys were exhausted.

You were fixing the last part of the generator and sighed in relief when it roared alive. Hearing the latch creek in the distance, you stood up and tried to listen for Leon on the way toward safety and you heard him yell out your name. You turned around and saw him running towards you with an angry Anna behind him about to throw her hatchet. However, Leon was too close for comfort when Anna threw her hatchet and you yelled for Leon to duck and you barely just dodged the missile as it scraped your shoulder. Anna saw how it just got you and she halted to a stop as you and Leon made it through the hatch and made it back to camp. You sigh as you sit down for a moment to catch your breath.

You can still feel the sting of the cut on your shoulder. You can feel someone staring you down from the forest. You know who it is instantly. You slowly get up while everyone is chatting and give a small pat on Leon’s shoulder as you head for the treeline. As you walk deeper into the forest you know she’s following you and you stop near a river that you find and sit on top of a rock nearby. The wound is finally closed, you just feel the sting still on your shoulder. You call over your shoulder, “Anna, you can come over. I’m not going to bite,” you say with a small smile. You can barely hear her approach you but she gently sits down next to you, looking at the ground. You can tell she’s upset about hurting you and you softly grab her hand. You lean your head against her shoulder and whisper a small, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I know it was an accident.” She looks at where she hurt you, only to see it healed already. She feels more at ease knowing you forgive her and that you’re not in any more physical pain. She breathes in deeply and turns to wrap her arms around you and starts humming. You relax in her embrace and you play with her hands for a while until one of you gets pulled back into a trial.

Deathslinger:

You wake up gasping for breath. Another trial failed. You stare up at the stars for a few moments and groan as you try to sit up. You’re further from the survivor camp than you expected and look at the tree line. You’re getting tired of how boring the survivor's camp has been. You decided it was time to start heading towards the one realm you’ve always felt welcomed in.

You finally stepped foot into the scorching sun and decided to take off the stupid jacket you’ve been wearing, sweating, and bleeding in. At least you have a tank top that’s white. Attracts less heat in this wild west place.

You don’t even realize you’re in front of the saloon until you walk through the swinging doors. Caleb side-eyes you as he took a sip of his whiskey. He puts his glass down and leans over the bar to grab another glass as you walk towards him and sit next to him with a blank face. He’s pouring you a drink as he notices your faraway stare. “What’s on yer mind darlin’? I ain’t ever seen ya look so glum,” he gruffly says to you. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. You take a big gulp of your drink and wince slightly at the burn going down your throat. It's been a while since you’ve gotten to be with Caleb. You care for him so deeply and you know he cares for you too. You just don’t know how much. “Caleb… I-...” you don’t even know how to word it without sounding desperate. You feel him put some strands of hair behind your ear and then he caresses your cheek with his finger. “My sweet thang. You ain’t never been so quiet,” he said with a small smile. You finally ease up some more as you turn to look at him and his hand cups your cheek. “I love you, Caleb. I just really miss you lately.” you finally say. “My word. It’s ‘bout time you said it. I’ been waitin’ for you to say it first, sweetheart.” he leaned in and put a sickly soft kiss on your lips. “I love you more than anythin’.” Caleb said. You smile in relief and grab your glass and raise it to him. He snorts and raises his glass and clinks it against yours. “To me ‘n you darlin’.”

Ghostface:

You groan at the flash that keeps going off. “Danny, if you don’t chill it with the flash, I’m going to get a migraine,” you whine. He chuckles as he finally stops, “Alright, alright. You’re lucky I got enough for now, sweet cheeks.” “Oh yeah? I’m lucky? No, I think you’re lucky I let you take cute photos of me.” You said as you jumped on top of him trying to wrestle the camera out of his hands. You and Danny tossed each other around, throwing in a lil WWE moves, for the dramatics of course, and you somehow got on top. With a victorious laugh and quick hands, you grab the camera and snap as many pictures as you can of Danny’s laughing face. He grabs you by the hips and turns you guys around and onto your back. You move the camera far and away from yourself, thus, away from Danny. He doesn’t even try to reach for it. You look up at him as he cages your head between his arms.

“Ya know. For this place being as much as a shithole as it is, I’m glad I got you out of it.” You felt the blood rush to your face, not expecting something so sweet to come out of him. “I-... I can’t believe you think that,” you said, almost shocked. “Yeah, well, good luck hearing something like that come out of me again. You totally ruined the moment.” He sighed with a small, fake, pout. You couldn’t help but laugh, he smiled immediately as you giggled out an “Oh, I ruined the moment? Me?” you try to suppress the giggles as you bite your lip. You two lay there as you look into each other’s eyes. You both relax from the giggle fest and he leans down slowly to leave a small kiss on your lips. After that, he leans his head down into the crook of your neck and lays all his body weight onto you. What a perfectly weighted blanket you have. You run your fingers through his hair and press a small kiss on his temple. “I’m keeping those pictures I took of you by the way,” you said into his hair as you press another kiss there. He presses a kiss to your collarbone and with a small sigh he responds with a “Fine by me.”

Hillbilly:

You were running through the cornfields, breathing heavily. You can hear him behind you with his uneven stomps. You find a tree with taller corn stalks around it and you go around it and hide behind the tree. You hear him call out. You put your hand over your mouth to calm your breathing. You hear him getting closer… and closer… and then… silence. You hear nothing around you but the breeze going through the tall grass and corn stalks. You decide you’re in the clear and look around the tree. Just as you turn your head, you feel rough hands go around your waist. You let out a shriek and turn around to see Max with a small grin on his face. He lets out a tiny giggle behind his hand as you let out a small sigh.

“I guess I’m it now, huh Maxie?” He nods a little and squats a bit so he can be on your level face-to-face. You give him a big smile and say “I guess you want your reward, big guy?” He groaned out a small “uh-huh” and you leaned into his face and gave him a small kiss on the corner of his lips. “Ok, so now that I’m it, you have to start running ok? Once I get ya, I’m getting one of your famous bear hugs as a prize.” You smile real big and give him a kiss on his cheek. “You better start running, Maxie. Imma get that hug from you!” you giggle and you try to reach out, but he moves just out of reach as you go for him again. Doing this makes him giggle as he runs away with you hot on his trail also giggling.

He hasn’t been giddy like this before and he likes the affection you give him. Max slows down a little cause he looked over his shoulder to see how close you were. When he turns he doesn’t see you and a little part of him panics. Where did you go? You were right behind him? He turns back to the direction he was originally going to go and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he feels you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He hears your giggles of “I got ya!” and you press kisses all over his face as he wraps his arms around your waist and makes small noises of happiness. He flushed a little feeling you pressed up against him, but most of all, he felt safe. He tightened his hold on you and started heading towards the house. All he wants is to cuddle and eat some of your cooking. The whole walk was just a bunch of loving words from you and happy noises from him.

Lmk what you guys think!!!

Requests are open!!

#dbd x reader #the trapper x reader #evan macmillan x reader #huntress x reader #Anna x reader #deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn x reader #ghostface x reader #Danny johnson x reader #the hillbilly x reader #max thompson jr x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader

[sleepingdeath-light]

ideal type hcs ; disney princesses

requested by ; anonymous (12/06/22)

fandom(s) ; disney animated films

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; anna, ariel, aurora, belle, cinderella, elsa, jasmine, merida, moana, mulan, pocahontas, rapunzel, snow white, tiana

outline ; “Could you do a headcanons for the Disney princesses ideal types, and what they look for in a partner?”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

anna

anna would prioritise kindness and empathy in a partner above all else — someone who will stick their neck out to protect or help someone else without the expectation of a reward

someone who is capable on their own but who knows when to ask for help, and that isn’t too proud to admit their mistakes

someone who she can have fun with to escape the unending monotony and responsibility of royal life — but who will also stick by her side when the time comes to be serious

someone who loves her for who she is and not the money and status she represents

and bonus points if you get her big sister’s approval

ariel

ariel would pursue a partner who makes the effort to try and understand her — who will push through barriers (emotional, physical, linguistic) in order to make her feel heard and loved

someone who she can have fun with without being made to feel irresponsible or childish — who isn’t afraid to act foolish or silly with her

someone who is affectionate with her, who can match her need for physical touch and such without her needing to beg

someone who isn’t afraid to take risks and do dangerous things if it’s for something you love — be that her or one of your passions

someone who is open and honest with her, who doesn’t belittle or infantilise her — who includes her in the conversation rather than brushing over what she has to offer

a lover who is as in love with the world and with life as they are with her

aurora

aurora would want a partner who is, above anything else, kind — kind to others, kind to the world and kind to themself

someone who isn’t afraid to laugh at themselves but who will always lend a hand or an ear to those who need it

someone who is honest and genuine, but who knows when not to be blunt in what they’re saying — someone who thinks before acting

someone who doesn’t feel the need to rush through life, who can enjoy taking things slowly and take in the simple joys — thinks like freshly made bread and the grass between your toes

she’d want a partner who she could be briar rose with rather than someone who’d expect her to just be princess aurora

belle

belle would look for a partner who is always willing to learn and grow — to change and adapt to the world without getting stuck in their ways

someone who she can joke around with and make fun of without receiving anything but full reciprocation in return — someone who isn’t afraid to be the butt of a joke every now and then

someone who is honest and open, someone who is comfortable around her enough to be honest and who trusts her enough to be open — which she’d reciprocate in a heartbeat

someone who takes the time to get to know her mind rather than stopping at her face — who sees her as an equal and not just a future wife

someone who can be themselves around her and who she can be herself around without judgement or hesitation — just love and folly and conversation

cinderella

ella is the type who would look for a partner that she can be herself around — someone who loves her for all of her passions and eccentricities and that doesn’t expect her to be perfect

someone who appreciates and accepts her independence, never pushing her into any specific role, without forcing her back into the position of complete isolation she was in growing up

someone who can make her laugh but that won’t shy away from her when she’s upset — who accepts her in her entirety rather than only sticking around when she’s happy

someone who holds respect and empathy for everyone no matter their background or appearance — who would have treated her kindly even when she was a house servant

all in all, ella would want a partner who loves her for her and who she doesn’t feel the need to hide parts of herself around — someone who lets her come into her own as a person whilst the relationship progresses

elsa

elsa would want a partner who understands her — who takes the time to learn her boundaries and respects them without question, as she would for them in return

someone who gets her hesitance and isn’t afraid of her because of her gift — they don’t have to admire it or be in awe, just see it as a part of her

someone who doesn’t mind the cold and who won’t force her to stifle herself again

someone who loves her family (chosen and given) as much as they can — who adores anna, jokes with kristoff and who respects the legacy and memory of her parents

she’d want someone who she can have fun with but that isn’t opposed to discussing things that are serious when needed

jasmine

jasmine values a partner who is spontaneous but not in an actively dangerous way — like they enjoy adventure but not putting other people in harm’s way

someone who is fun and adventurous and who is eager and able to show her the world beyond the walls she grew up in

someone unlike all of the stuffy, pompous suitors that come filing in and out of the palace doors every day

someone who isn’t afraid to be unique and affectionate and silly and childish no matter the company

oh and someone who likes cats because raja is here to stay

merida

merida looks for a partner who is as independent as her and who isn’t going to expect her to be reliant on them

someone who is capable on their own and able to handle themselves if the worst happens — whether that’s a war or a loss in the family

someone who loves her family or at the very least makes the effort to get along with them

someone who isn’t afraid to argue and bicker, who doesn’t expect everything to be all roses and sunshine all of the time and bails when things start to not look so perfect

someone who has a good sense of humour and is able to match her wit and jokes without taking offense

but most of all: someone who is looking for a life partner to have fun with, not someone to be subservient to them

moana

moana would seek out a partner who is able to match her energy and mind — who she can talk to without limiting or censoring herself

someone who respects tradition and routine without abandoning or scorning any chance of change and growth — who will support her in bringing her village to a new age of exploration

someone who is willing to step outside of their comfort zone every now and then, but who is able to tell her when they have reached their limit — someone who can be honest with her and who she can be honest with in return

someone who she can bounce ideas off of and who will come back with new routes and theories and concepts that she can bring to the community for approval

she’d want someone who is their own person and respects her independence, but who she can come together with to become better in one way or another — a partner that encourages her growth, not one that hinders or stunts it

mulan

mulan would value a partner who isn’t afraid to be daring and step outside of their comfort zone — someone who balances routine/expectations and growth/adventure in a similar way to herself

someone who isn’t afraid to challenge her and themselves — who is willing to make mistakes and stumble without giving up entirely

someone who loves adventure and taking risks, but that can also enjoy the quieter and plainer aspects of domestic life — cups of tea, star gazing and reading

someone who loves her for her — not for the warrior nor the maiden but for the woman behind that legend

she’d also want someone who respects her and her family without being a complete doormat who is unwilling to speak for themselves — independence mixed with politeness

pocahontas

pocahontas would look for a partner who is willing to learn and grow and isn’t too caught up in themselves and the past to do so

someone who is willing to be patient and listen to the world around them in order to understand it — the water, the wild life, the wind

someone who won’t stifle her need for adventure and who will help her explore the world — travelling together to see more of the world with open minds and open hearts

someone who will stick with her through it all — protecting, listening, learning and growing as a couple and as individuals through the good and bad parts of life

someone who isn’t too proud to be kind or too stuck up to have fun and make mistakes — because that’s what life is about

rapunzel

rapunzel would appreciate a partner who is able to match her enthusiasm and passion for life — or, at the very least, someone who can understand it

someone who isn’t afraid to let their guard down and get their hands dirty — who is happy to let loose and have fun

someone who will listen to her without judgement and who will support her when she’s at her lowest — and that won’t turn her down when she tries to help

someone that doesn’t yell or lie, someone that approaches arguments clearly and honestly — who sees it as ‘us vs the problem’ and not ‘me vs you’

someone who is able to let themselves be silly and stupid and childish and not feel the need to be serious and sad all of the time — someone who is able to be their full self around her

really, she just wants someone to be herself around who won’t judge her for it

snow white

snow would probably find gentleness an attractive trait in a potential partner — that and a willingness to be kind without the expectation of receiving any reward for it

she’s a gentle soul and wouldn’t be compatible with someone who is volatile or combative — especially during disagreements where she tries to seek out a compromise and speak concisely (us vs problem) instead of raising her voice and trying to be right (me vs you)

someone who can let go of their ego when necessary and let themselves be wrong when they’re wrong — someone who is reflective enough to know when they’ve made a mistake

someone who loves animals or who at the very least treats them with empathy and tries to help out where they can

someone who is honest with her but not blunt — being open without being cruel

oh and someone who loves her cooking and baking as that’s how she shows her love

tiana

tiana would look for someone who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty — who is willing to put in work to get what they want rather than just expecting everyone to do everything for them

she needs someone who is independent but that works well with others as well, a team player who doesn’t need to be told what to do in order to get things done

someone who will stick by her through the tough times — providing emotional support and labour when needed without judgement — instead of someone who will just lay low and only be with her during the good bits of life

someone who isn’t afraid to admit when they’re wrong and who isn’t too proud to be emotional and vulnerable — she needs honesty, really

or, in other words, she needs someone who understands and trusts her and that she can trust in return

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #fluff #fluff hcs #disney fluff #disney x reader #disney princesses x reader #disney princesses fluff #elsa x reader #anna x reader #cinderella x reader #aurora x reader #belle x reader #ariel x reader #jasmine x reader #pocahontas x reader #mulan x reader #moana x reader #merida x reader #rapunzel x reader #snow white x reader #tiana x reader

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Dbd Bikini

Requested: Yes [can u write huntress, charlotte, ghostface, and pig's reaction to the survivor they've been making sexual advances to ending up in a veyr small bikini on a game with them?]

Warnings: ✨Spice✨

Huntress

Why are you in your underwear???? Is her first thought, whining in dismay as she wraps you up whatever cloth she can find. Whether it be the cloth on the pews in Father Campbell’s or the drapes from the Thompson house. Hell, the shirt off her back if it’s the only thing she can find! Not that she’s displeased with seeing you in such a state of undress but she doesn’t want anyone else to look at what’s hers! She’ll instruct you to stay hidden in a locker, covered in blood when she finally returns, eager to rip off that bikini and feel your skin on hers.

Charlotte

Charlotte, much like Huntress, thinks you’re in your underwear. Though unlike Huntress, she thinks that maybe it was not your choice. Did someone steal your clothes while you were bathing? It’s possible, she’d seen people do it before, when she was roaming the woods. Cruel prank and she was sad at the thought that someone was being mean to you. She’ll approach you quickly, sitting you in front of the fireplace in Ormond, telling you not the move as she goes to try and find something for you to be covered with, eventually showing up covered in blood with what you’re pretty sure is Vittorio’s jacket in her arms.

Ghostface

That outfit is very much Ghostface approved. Especially when he notices a design just like his mask is printed all over. He acts shocked, as if he didn’t bribe the Entity to do this for him after successfully sacrificing a LOT of your friends to her. No matter though! He’s more than happy to warm you up in this cold weather. His gloved hands running up and down your sides when your back is turned, just out of sight. Making you feel like you’re going crazy because you could have sworn someone had just touched you. That they were watching you.

Pig

Amanda is so amused when you show up in a trial with her wearing little more than a string from clothes. She wants to ignore it but….hmm, she does enjoy the sight of your rounded cheeks, the bikini string snug between them. She could practically see what what underneath. Maybe is she had time at the end of the trial, if you were still alive by then, then you both could play a little game together. One that she was sure you’d enjoy too.

#dbd #dead by daylight #Anna #Anna x reader #the huntress #the huntress x reader #charlotte deshayes #Charlotte DeShayes x reader #Danny Johnson #danny johnson x reader #Amanda young #amanda young x reader

[fandom-go-round]

Hello. Do you have any headcanons of Pig, Huntress and Artist (dbd) dating S/O, who's good at reading facial expressions?

Thank you for your patience Anon! I hope that you enjoy these!

Warnings: Implied Canon Typical Violence, Implied Unhealthy Relationships, Stalking, Questionable Mental States (Non Sexual)

The Pig:

Amanda appreciates that you’re so good at reading people. Or in this case mask expressions. She doesn’t like to take her mask off, even outside trails. This means that if you want to get to know her, you need to get to know her through the mask. Her mask isn’t very expressive but there are clues you can look for to figure out how she’s feeling. A head tilt means she’s listening, her head going back means she’s annoyed. Amanda says a lot with very little once you learn how to read her.

Her eyes show a lot of emotion and you often stand so that you can see them clearer in the light. She thinks it’s odd you’ll stand just off to the left or directly in front of her but there’s a reason. Pig isn’t going to stop you from doing what you want, even if it’s going to get you hurt. She thinks it’s funny when you go to get a better angle and then trip on a tree root or step into a hole. Her laughter might sound mocking but it’s one of the only times you hear her laugh so you’ll take it.

She will get jealous if you spend time reading the other killers like you do her. She wants to be special to you and takes that very seriously. Even if you’re only doing it to stay alive, a part of her is going to be huffy. Make sure to spend extra time with her or ask her what she wants to do. Amanda will take things into her own hands and if you really want to see her face, this might be a good way to gently hint that she needs to express herself. The Pig might grumble but she does care about you and wants you to be happy.

The Huntress:

It’s not something that Anna notices at first, she’s too busy watching you. You’re so interested in the world around you that it can be hard to look away. She’s drawn to you like a moth to flame. It takes some time for her to notice that more often than not you’re staring back at her. She knows that it’s hard to tell what she looks like and where her attention is, her mask is designed that way on purpose. Even so, you always seem to know when she’s watching and it makes her feel good to have so much of your attention.

It can unnerving to be the center of your attention; you read her so well and it makes her feel vulnerable. Anna isn’t use to being the one exposed, the one hunted. There’s a part of her that likes it and another that hates it. When she first realizes that you can read her like a book she’s not pleased, not taking it out on you but stomping around trials. As she gets used to it and understands that it’s part of how you express your affection, it gets a lot easier for her to handle. On bad days it can still be too much and she’ll end to spend some time alone before spending time with you again.

Anna is fairly neutral if you’re good at reading other people. It makes her smile behind her mask when you route other killers or tease the other survivors. She doesn’t get jealous easily but when she does, it’s with other killers who have masks. She knows the kind of focus you have to have to read them that well and it can make her feel insecure. Give her extra affection after trails like this and all will be forgiven.

The Artist:

She thinks that it’s fitting you’re able to read her so well. Carmina isn’t very expressive anymore and does her best to come off as cold and elusive. She can’t deny that she’s been drawn to you but the better you get at reading her, the more she wants to follow you. It’s your eyes she later realizes, when the urge to stalk is gone and she’s thinking about the trial. She loves your eyes; even more so when they’re fixed on her. She becomes determined to keep your attention as much as possible.

It’s not hard for Carmina to keep you entranced; she has a presence that’s hard to ignore but when you’re in her sights? You’re only torn away when it’s forced. It doesn’t start as love, it’s defiantly fascination but it goes from like to love quickly. She loves that she hardly needs to say anything, one glance and you know what she’s feeling. It’s a power rush she hasn’t felt in a while and she embraces it completely.

Carmina begins to show off when she knows you’re looking, making things seem completely random but it’s all for you. It’s flattering to see new pieces of art that relate to you in some way. It’s not super obvious but it may be more use of your favorite color or a landscape you enjoy. She’s not easily jealous but she does get annoyed if people have no idea you’re together. When she wants everyone to know they will and then her affection can overflow like a river.

#dbd imagine #dead by daylight imagine #pig x reader #amanda young x reader #artist x reader #carmina mora x reader #dbd pig #pig imagine #amanda young imagine #adiris imagine #dbd artist #artist imagine #carmina mora imagine #carmina mora #amanda young #huntress x reader #dbd huntress #huntress imagine #anna x reader #anna imagine #dbd anna

[disneeznuts]

Masterlist

-𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙙-

𝙁𝙡𝙮𝙣𝙣

𝙍𝙖𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙯𝙚𝙡

-𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐠-

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐓𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞

-𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬-

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐌𝐞𝐠

-𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐧-

𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐧

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠

-𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐨 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜h-

𝐃𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐢

-𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐧-

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡

𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚

𝐄𝐥𝐬𝐚

-𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝟔-

𝐓𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧

𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨

𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐢

——

Likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

#tangled x reader #flynn rider x reader #rapunzel x reader #naveen x reader #Tiana x reader #hercules x reader #Meg x reader #David x reader #Nani x reader #christoph x reader #anna x reader #Elsa x reader #tadashi x reader #honey lemon x reader #Gogo x reader #wasabi x reader #big hero 6 x reader #disney x reader

[r3dkn0ts]

huntress, knight and singularity congratulating killer!reader who’s brand new to the realm on their first 4k?

This sounds interesting! Let's give it a go!

Killers reacting to their Killer!S/O's First 4K

The Huntress / Anna - She's definitely celebrating with you in her own little way. Anna isn't a drinker, but she may offer you something physical like a massage or even carve a little animal for you out of wood. - Anna's gonna give you so many kisses on the forehead as congratulations. Many, many smooches.

The Knight / Tarhos Kovács - Bring out the mead! As expected, he's gonna bring Alejandro, Durkos, and Sander to celebrate alongside you two. It'd be stupid not to! - If you're not into alcoholic beverages, Tarhos will be a bit disappointed, but he'll get over it eventually. There are ways to celebrate festivities without losing your consciousness! - After the three guards have finished drinking all the mead they could find scattered around the borgo, you and Tarhos could finally have some alone time. Although, most of the time would most likely consist of you curling into his side and resting after taking off his heavy armor and brushing out his tangled hair.

The Singularity / HUX-A7-13 - Sorry to burst your bubble, but HUX simply feels no need to celebrate such a feat. Being an artificial intelligence has its benefits, but also its downsides. One of those downsides is not finding joy in much of anything, much less little accomplishments. - If you told him about your 4K and expected anything more than the emotionless "congratulations" that you received, sorry. Maybe if you got lucky, he'd give you a little pat on the head with his arm that isn't a gigantic rusted blade.

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagines #the huntress x reader #anna x reader #the knight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #the singularity x reader #hux-a7-13 x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #mentions of alcohol #shoutout to all my fellow robot fuckers

[creepswrites]

Ok I got it ok listen

Anna the Huntress with a survivor reader S/O who's like. Super duper sneaky. Like the reader survives not because Anna spares them, but because she simply can't find them! Ofc when all the other survivors are gone Anna and the reader have some time to themselves and Anna is like super confused and worried cause like "where were you😭"

i loved this, i hope you enjoy it green anon!

THE HUNTRESS (ANNA) with a GN! S/O who is incredibly sneaky

You had a unique skillset of being able to basically disappear during trials

A lot of the other survivors were jealous of this, but you couldn't even begin to explain how you did it

Every killer you'd gone up against so far had been stumped. Even Myers and he was difficult to trick

So it was pretty typical for you to be the last one in the trial - darting about as you completed generators without the killers spotting you

When you were paired against The Huntress, things went about the same

You hid, let the others take care of most of the generators, and then you'd do your part if they all were killed

They were aware of this plan and, usually, it worked

Today was just an unlucky day where The Huntress was out for blood...

You poked your head out from behind a tree. The eerie silence around you made you feel sick to your stomach. It felt uneasy - like you were being watched without anything around to watch you. You crept silently through the tall grasses, praying for anything that would listen that you could make it to the hatch safe and sound.

The trial was over. Your companions had gotten all the generators done but you were the only one who remained. From the sounds of things, The Huntress had been brutal tonight, barely giving the other three survivors a chance to escape.

Must've been a tough week for her.

You'd become somewhat... friendly? With her? If you could call it that. She liked to kill you last, basically. But, since perfecting your skills at sneaking about, you hadn't been against Anna in a minute. She must be confused as hell, the idea of which made you snicker to yourself.

Just before you could get to the hatch - your fingertips touching the door - you felt a hand grab you by the back of your shirt and pull you away.

Anna stood over you, hatchet gripped tightly in her hand as she loomed over you. "Куда ты ушел?" She practically snarled.

You blinked. "What?"

"Where were you?" She said, English words heavy with her Russian accent. "Disappeared."

A slight smile grew on your face. "I've been practicing. Got really good at sneaking around."

Anna seemed to relax, kicking lightly at your ankle. "Worried me." She mumbled.

You felt your heart clench as you stood up, taking her hand in yours. She was relatively tall - nearly as tall as Myers - but she'd never been particularly scary to you.

Yes, even when she had been throwing hatchets at you in the beginning.

But she'd grown fond of you and you'd grown fond of her. Or, as fond as a survivor and a killer could be of each other.

You closed your eyes as she pressed your foreheads together softly. "Sorry for worrying you."

"Вы драгоценны," Anna sighed, "Не пугай меня снова."

Damn, you really ought to find a Russian dictionary. Instead, you just hummed and kissed Anna's cheek. Or, the mask anyways. She still reacted, jolting and touching her face where you'd kissed her.

A soft laugh left your lips. "Hope to see you next time!" You called over your shoulder. "Or, more accurately, hope you see me next time."

Anna shook her hatchet at you as you laughed, jumping into the hatch.

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #dead by daylight #anna x reader #the huntress x reader #green anon

[boybandposter]

✽ Anna (Dislyte) Headcanons

this was the second part to another request ! thank you for requesting me anon ♥︎

warnings: not really a warning, but the reader is portrayed as another artist ! WLW ♥︎

word count: 717

₊˚ʚ 🪷₊˚✧ ﾟ.

- The day you met Anna, you two immediately clicked. After meeting at an art class in your boarding school, you couldn’t help but notice the meticulous detail in her paintings. In your eyes, it lacked the personality that most art held, but it was impressive how she captured the likeness of any scene. After approaching her and complimenting her, you two were always seen with one another.

- Whether it be at your own house or Anna’s, it would always be filled with afternoons of painting and watching her practice fencing. Watching her handle a blade was similar to watching her brushstrokes— planned and precise. It was mesmerizing how aggressive she could be as such a gentle soul, which has inspired many of your own paintings of Anna.

- Even though Anna has a “glass half full” mentality, she’s nearly ranted to you about how frustrated she secretly is about not being good enough. The amount of time she’s spent on art, only to be told time after time about the lack of emotion that were in her pieces. Anna has spent many nights crying to you, only for her to put on a smile the next day. It worried you, but all you could do was offer your unending support for her.

- After two years of knowing Anna, deep down you had come to realize your own feelings for her. Luckily for you, she had as well. Obviously, the two of you had painted one another portraits to express your love for one another. With paintings tucked under your arm, both of you confessed under the light of the moon, giggling and kissing one another senseless.

- I feel like with Anna being colorblind, you would be the one helping her with clothing shopping. It was almost like Anna was your personal dress up doll, and she was more than willing to do so for you (plus, she’d much rather let you make those decisions for her).

- At times while Anna is engrossed in her painting, you’ve caught her off guard— making her jump from the disturbance. She’ll never be upset about it though; she considers it a welcome interruption. Nothing would beat the feeling when you would drape your arms across her shoulders, your face nuzzling against her own. Gods, it’s her absolute favorite.

- Anna’s a light sleeper for sure. When you two are sleeping and you move away from her, she’s wide awake. She’ll practically hunt you down to cuddle up against you— she hates being away from you, even if she knows you’re right there beside her.

- The one thing Anna will make sure of is that you two have a pet or two. She wouldn’t accept anyone who doesn’t love pets. Anna definitely loves cats; but I can imagine her taking you on a date to pick two kittens. In fact, her entire camera roll is filled to the brim with pictures of you with the pets, and she frequently looks back on them with a smile.

- Before you two had even gotten into a relationship, she always expressed her love of traveling. Every year during the summer, you two will take a week-long trip to wherever you two decide. Anywhere with the ocean and art galleries are definitely her favorite, but what’s most important to Anna is that you’re happy.

- Anna absolutely cherishes the times when you clean the paint off of her skin. The gentle caresses of the cloth in your hand make her melt under your touch immediately (she won’t admit it, but she’ll purposefully wipe paint on her arms or face).

- You’ll definitely have to teach her to communicate her actual feelings. All her life she hid how she really felt— and it definitely transferred into her relationships. Anna often pushed her opinions aside to please you, but you could always tell she was telling white lies. Anna doesn’t mean to, but losing you would ruin her.

- What else would Anna paint more than her one and only muse? You’ve already found several little sketches along notepads and the like, plus many portraits that Anna has done of you. She can’t help it though; you’re always on her mind, and on her canvases.

₊˚ʚ 🪷₊˚✧ ﾟ.

author’s note: man what a writers block tbh— I have so many ideas but my keyboard has been acting up :(

#florence writes ! #fanfic #writing #requests open #x reader #dislyte x reader #dislyte #anna #anna persephone #anna dislyte #anna x fem!reader #anna x reader #anna headcanons #headcanons #anna x y/n #anna persephone dislyte #reqs open

[daughterofyeshuaa]

How about four random killers reacting on the fact that their S/O in past stole nuke and, upon being asked 'why?' just answer 'I wanted in on Christmas as a child'?

I'm really sorry if this isn't what you wanted, I tried my best <3 :)

Albert Wesker

You're a weapon

No like literally

He could use you for so much

You wanted it for Christmas? Well, he wanted YOU for Christmas too but - okay nevermind

Anna

Her brain can't process it

You stole WHAT?

You also stole her heart but that's a story for another day

Herman Carter

Immediate turn on

Lowkey wants you to do it again and see how you did it

You wanted it for Christmas? Why?

Can he give you something better?

Of course not lmao

Amanda Young

Wow

How was that possible? How'd you sneak past security?

How'd you get a whole NUKE?????

And what did you do with it after you got it?

The world may never know

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dead by daylight #albert wesker x reader #Herman Carter x reader #amanda young x reader #anna x reader #the huntress x reader

[kiana-kaslana-423]

!! Not comfy with men will block on interaction !!!

Imagine being a visitor at Green Lake and you somehow become friends with Jessica! You ran into her before she could run into you-

You two get to know each other and hang out a little bit at the lake! You two just met but it felt like you've been together forever,, it was honestly a sweet moment!!

Until out of nowhere a butcher came running at you from the woods— Jessica completely forgot she left the butcher unattended!

The butcher scared you and made you run off! in Jessica's mind there was only one option left to get you back over to her, so she twisted it's fuckin head off at it's neck.

“ Look baby! it's bloody, it's gone, it's doomed, please!!

Come back over here!!! I'll do anything for you!!”

#obsessed songs = good inspiration #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse: 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #Changeling x reader #Changeling #Jessica x reader #Jessica #anna x reader #anna #r1999 #re1999 #reverse 1999 Jessica

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: They're under the control of something, or someone, else and directed to try and kill you- until you break them free from the hold.

Includes: The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase, The Huntress / Anna, Freddy Krueger, Laughing Jack, Offenderman, Peter Hale, Peter Hayes, and Scott (Total Drama).

Warnings: Mind control, non con drugging (Jeffrey), violence, angst. And, then, fluff! ^^

The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase:

Controlled by- The Entity.

The moment you hit Cronus Penn Asylum and you saw the look in Jeffry's eyes, you know something terrible has happened. Something is missing in them. All of the... Jeffrey, really. There's no amusement nor dreadful glee, there, at seeing you. Something you've become accustomed to, and actually made you feel... comfortable- weird as that sounds.

But right now you do not feel comfortable. Especially as he starts descending upon you.

Nervous, you take a few tiny, cautious steps back as he moves towards you. You raise an eyebrow. "Jeffrey... ? Are you okay?... "

He doesn't say a word, but you watch his hand disappear into his coat pocket, and take out a bottle.

You start to walk faster, backwards. "Jeffrey what's that? Jeffrey, why wont talk?" He still doesn't answer and just keeps coming closer. Your hearts starting to beat unnaturally fast in your chest, and you're legitimately scared; Face pale and your legs demanding you to run. Far and fast, until you cant see him anymore. "Jeff!"

And then he rears his arm back, ready to throw it at the ground near your feet, and you turn around and make your run for it; Sprinting across the ground to escape the fumes that crash and fill the air behind you- taking the air that you breath.

You fail; And the drug is fast acting, stealing your energy and making it hard to breath- soon you're on the ground, struggling to breath in proper lungful's of air, on your hands and knees, just trying to stay moving. Even if its just an inch at a time. But you can feel him on your heels, eyes licking up the back of your legs and your back, before he drops to his knees - not groaning in pain or coughing at all, - , and uses a big meaty hand to drag you over onto your backside.

You're now laying on the ground, just trying to concentrate on taking long, slow breaths and not the butterfly knife nearing your chest. "Jeff... " You whine, squeezing your eyes closed. Its hard to speak, as its hard to breath, but there's nothing else you can try; So you force the sounds out. "Why... are you... doing... this... ah... "

"Kenneth is not here." Finally, your clown responds. But this not his voice. This is unfamiliar- yet when you crack an eye open, eyebrows furrowed in pain and confusion, its still Jeffrey's face looking blankly back at you. Gone is the drunken slur that's become tantamount to Jeffrey's identity, along with the wheeze that comes with his breezing and the pleased lilt to his tones. This is emotionless and informational. "This is the Entity. And I've been made exceedingly displeased by your dalliances with each other... " Your eyelids squeeze shut again, forehead wrinkling severely and lips parted as to take in as much oxygen as possible, as you struggle against the drugs Jeffrey is so good, at stirring. And you fight to fully understand the words coming out of Jeffrey's mouth, but that are certainly not his. "Killers are not supposed to bring joy... even degenerate, perverted joy as you are taking from him, Y/N... Let this be a lesson to you both."

The knife comes down towards your chest then, but you manage to block it from breaking your skin with a weak hand- the drug evidently weakening your muscles, too, -. "No... Jeffrey... please." You didn't even realise you were weeping, until salty, dirty tears slip down to your lips and you taste the flavour of you horror. A sob tears through you. "Please, don't do... do this... "

You cant even struggle against him, fight for your dignity. No, you can only lay there and sob ugly tears like a child, moaning his name like its yours. Like he belongs to you and you just want your thing, back. You want desperately for the Entity to let him go. Jeffrey's not much, but you would really like for him to come back to you- and to give you the cure to this awful drug.

Hands weakly find the lapels of his jacket, as you slowly writhe on the ground. The Entity - or Jeffrey? - watches you suffer, eyes half lidded. "There's no point to begging. His consciousness can do nothing, right now."

"Let him... let him go... " You don't know wen your pleas started to become for him, rather then for you, but suddenly that's all you want.

"You should worry about yourself." The Entity responds, a bored tone to his voice.

"I... " Another sob wracks your body, before you gasp for air because that cry took all of it out of you, and panic for a second because you cannot breath- "I cant!... "

"You should worry about yourself!" You Entity snaps again, and you cant see him for your eyes being closed but through your pain and your struggling, a tangible haze surrounding and coating everything inside you like tar, you detect a lining of anger now.

But how could you possibly make this worse by defying him?

"Just let him... " Breathing in deeply, even as your airways feel half closed, you feel your gums ache. "go, let him... get out... " Get out of him. Leave him alone. Let him be. Put him back-

Suddenly, you feel familiar weight, that you hadn't quite realised was far less then it should be as the Entity in Jeffrey's body held you down, rest against you. Fingers brush some of your hair back, soothingly, and slimy grease-paint covered lips press a comfortingly gentle kiss to your cheek. You know he left a mark of grease paint behind, too. "You should worry about yourself... Y/N... "

You know you would gasp if you were in any state to do so, and your eyes flutter slightly open- only a crack, only a bit, to see Jeffrey.

Really, Jeffrey this time. His eyebrows are furrowed in a half-concerned expression as fat fingers run through your hair, tracing your skin. "Jeff... Jeffrey?"

"Don't talk. Sorry love, but this particular drug'll only wear off on its own. Nasty, huh? Just breath, okay? Wouldn't wantcha passin' out, not after all those lovely things you said for me, at least." The last bit is slightly teasing, but there is still a definite umbrella of soft, gentle concern as he talks quiet, and slow- forcing himself to swallow back his coughs as to not do it near your face. He's also holding himself off your chest, to make it easier for you. "Just keep on breathin', nugget... Keep doin' that for me, okay? That's all I need. You're off the hook for Christmas presents forever if you do this for me, okay? Okay... "

The sound of his voice, as horrible and scratchy as it is, lulls you into a state of calm. Breathing becomes slightly easier, now that you aren't fighting with the very little strength you have in the moment , and your muscles relax.

The Huntress / Anna:

Controlled by- The Entity.

The broad axe that very fucking nearly hit its target - being your head, - a moment ago is what had you realising that maybe Anna is just not feeling herself today, and causes you decision to hide.

As you strategically cower in a brush and peel your ears for any sounds of Anna - which is hard, seeing as she's a hunter, - , your mind races with possibilities of why she's acting this way. She hasn't tried to lodge an axe into your skull for what you think has possibly been years. She likes you. She pets your head and strokes your hair and brings you dead birds as presents.

And you've liked her liking you- and not only because you experience situations like this one, far less frequently.

"Oh Y/N... You cannot escape me. I will find you. You've endangered the integrity of my games... and you must be punished."

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, hearing those words. Fingers dig into the dirt on either side of your for purchase as you fight not shiver, because those words were so fricken freaky, and give away your position. Surely, that is not Anna!

Suddenly the familiar axe flies into the air, and sticks swiftly into the bark of a tree behind you- just above your head, and your seize up, freezing. You figure, she found you.

As your turning tail and attempting to make a quick escape, crawling out from under the bushes, a hand latches onto your heels and drags you across the ground back wards. You shriek, rolling over and trying frantically to kick her off, scraping your other foot against her hand to get it off but its no use and she has you underneath her soon enough. Still, your heart's hammering in your chest and and you fight to push her off you with your knee but she easily wrangles you down and sits herself on your thighs- the axe now slamming deep into the dirt by your head; The threat effectively stopping your movements.

Breathing hard, but slowly, you carefully turn your head from the weapon and up to Anna's face- and see her smirking.

... for as long as you've known her, Anna has never smirked. It shocks you dumb for a moment. "... Anna-"

"The Huntress is occupied." These words send a chill down your spine, just like before, and you fight not to shake under the dark gaze that seems to prickle and penetrate. Whoever's speaking through Anna tilts her head down at you. "Anna... as you feel so comfortable calling her... is dealing with her own penalty right now. This is the Entity. And your relationship with each other has arisen an issue, for me... Its just not entertaining anymore."

The Entity.

The Entity.

The Entity.

The words keep repeating in your head, and you honestly have to fight not disbelieve, these words. The idea is crazy. The Entity, is mad? The Entity kidnapped you all - killers and survivors alike, - to have you all try to kill eachother like a psychopathic 12 year old Hunger Games fangirl and its mad!?

You give a good fight, kicking your legs suddenly and trying with all your might to shove Anna's body the fuck off you- but she seems to be stronger, now, and she pushes your wrists down by your head the she's now the damn terminator. You yelp in surprise, and drop your head back into the dirt, conceding defeat. Gaze flickering from the forest around you, to Anna's face, you raise your brows. "What did you mean by Anna's dealing with her own penalty right now?" Heat builds up in your chest and your stomach twists. "What are you doing to her?"

"Nothing... I figure if you two are going to play by different rules, then I'll follow your lead. She'll but watch from inside her own body, as I use it to hurt you. That'll be painful enough for her... don't you think?"

Oh no... You think, eyebrows furrowing. No... Anna's in there? You glance at into those eyes again, searching for any signs of her. You find none, but know she's in there... so you fight not to glare back into them, despite the pressure building in you to look back at them the same way its daring to look at you. "... Anna?"

The Entity says nothing back, just blinks as it watches you look absolutely helpless on the ground, hair in the dirt.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes for a moment, you gather your courage, letting the breath out through your nose... You need to comfort her, you realise. Killer's aren't used to being the ones hurt. You just want her to be okay; Cuz you know you damn sure will be. Nothing the entity can do to you anymore can really get you down, for long. You refuse to let it.

"Anna... " Your eyes open again. "If- if you're really in there... I want you to know its okay. I'll be fine. That fucking Doctor does worse to me then this bastard can do with just a little axe, on a regular basis... And those fuckers Macmillan and the Pig aren't a lot better. So I know I'll be fine." Pleading with your eyes, you beg her to understand. "Please don't get too upset, Annie. I know its not you."

As the Entity lets go of one of your wrists and yanks the axe up out of the ground again, and its gaze washes over you... looking for where to start, probably... you squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips firmly together in a straight line. Sure, you'll take your 'punishment', but you wont stare into Anna's eyes while it happens.

Quietly, and before you even realise you wanted to do it... you start humming. Gently, and very almost inaudibly- but the Entity seems to hear it, if the sudden, violent jolt that Anna's body gives is any indication. Its an old lullaby that you know Anna loves. She sings it to you sometimes after a particularly bad trial, when you've come up against the Clown, or Krueger. She'll drag your body up against hers, sitting your back against her chest and hug you, pressing her cheek against the top of your head as the words slip out and your close your eyes; Letting her. You've come to crave those moments with her hugging you like you're special, and important.

The humming was only meant to comfort her, this time... but when her body climbs back off of you and she effortlessly picks you up, setting you in her lap and curling around you, burying her face into your neck.

When you immediately realise that is Anna again, rather then Entity, you quickly relax against her and wrap your arms around her neck and hugging her tight. "Кролик... I am sorry... I did not-... It-... was not me... "

"I know Anna... "

"Forgive me. I do not want you to fear."

"There's nothing to forgive."

Freddy Krueger:

Controlled by- Older, more powerful dream demons. (Uhhhhh *cough* Bill Cipher if you want *Cough cough*)

"Freddy... " You hold out your hands, a cautious gesture as he approaches- blades extended and ready to strike. And he's ascending faster then he usually would, more determined. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you look around, panicking; All you see is four walls, one that you're digging your shoulder blades into in a nearly subconscious attempt to keep yourself as far as you can from your attacker, who isn't acting like himself, and the claw-like blades on his fingers.

Your heart's hammering against your chest, because you know for certain- if he gets to you this time you aren't getting out. No lengthy one-liner is going to allow you to too luckily wake up just in the nick of time, no stupid loophole will stop him short, no silly human distraction will divert his short attention span. Your mind races with different ways you've escaped before, but none of it applies to a situation like this. Freddy's not himself- and weirdly enough you find yourself really fucking missing him. At least you wouldn't be in this situation! Looking around senselessly, you panic. "Shoot, shoot, shoot- "

He'd usually like to drag things out, eat up every delicious reaction you make, and by some miracle you would manage to escape.

But there's no foreseeable getaway out of this one.

Suddenly the wall behind you disappears, leaving a fucking cliff leading to a whole lot of deep, black, nothingness an inch from your heels and you violently flinch away from it, narrowly escaping a terrible fall, eyes wide at the new threat. A whimper comes out of you, staring back over your shoulder at it; You were always uncomfortable with heights.

While you're distracted is when 'Freddy', lunges- but you catch it from the corner of your eye and manage to whip back around in time to catch his wrist, holding the blades away from your body- a pathetic yelp flying out of you at the attack. "No!" Your eyes snap shut and stay squeezed tightly closed for a moment, before you crack them back open to see a furious scowl carved into his usually amused face. Damn it...

There's nothing left to do but beg.

"If you kill me now, all the fun will be over, Freddy." You remind, eyes wide as you try to get that through to him. Try to make him remember. His eyes just narrow at you and his other arm comes out of nowhere flying towards your throat but you catch that wrist too, and although your arm shakes against the struggle to release himself, you manage to not let go. Because if you do and those blades manage to slice through you then you are a goner. "Come on man fight this." Searching his eyes, you try to find even one lick of Freddy left but just despair and panic more when you just find terrible emptiness- its worse then any mirth or roué that's annoyed you before. "You're lots of things but you aren't a tool- please?"

Please, please.

"Oh but he is my tool! Aren't you seeing this??" For the first time, the bastard that's trying to kill you speaks; And your eyes immediately darken, louring at the face. He gives a great yank, trying to pull himself away from you but your fingers only clench down.

"What are you even doing with him?? Isn't he bringing in enough souls for you?? The bastard sure acts ruthless enough."

"Au contraire, Y/N. In fact 'the bastard' hasn't brought in any fresh ones for weeks. Been too busy with you, I'd wager. Which is why I've come to help out." Green eyes wonder across your determined, stony face, before an irritating smirk crosses his. "In fact, while I do admit that you're tough, beautiful- you aren't so tough that I believe you'd be able to ward off his attacks for this long... if he were being serious about it."

Face scrunching up in confusion and disinclined to really try and understand. "Well I guess you're not a great judge of strength because open your eyes and guess what? I'm still right here."

The smirk of Freddy's face turns very cruel. "I don't have any use for a wayward demon with human emotions."

Before you have a real chance to wonder what the hell that remark meant, you take a knee hard to the belly, causing all the the air in your throat to be knocked out, and your grip to loosen as a result- more then enough for the demon to take control of the situation; Shoving you harshly down to the ground and your knees when you double over and hold your stomach and just try to suck in breath again.

As air starts to fill your lungs again sharp, stinging claws scrape up your throat and dig into the skin below your chin. You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking you're really going to die this time.

The knives prod so hard into the soft skin there you think blood's going to spill any time as you jaw tightens and your heart beats as fast as a steam train rolling and your fists clench at your sides- when-

The pain disappears. The whole sensation of being touched by anything but the hard ground the clothes on your back goes away, in fact, and your crack your eyes slowly open, and look up.

Immediate, and odd considering the facts, relief washes over your body because you can tell just looking at him - despite the lack of change in expression, his face still stuck in a grim expression and you don't really blame him after the bullshit that just happened,- that the person standing in front of you now is once again the asshole who's been trying to kill you the past couple weeks. This is one of those moments you know that no one else will understand but you, but the relief in your voice when you say his name now is palpable. "Freddy." The ground behind you starts to grow outwards into the empty space of the chasm, creating a more stable surface for you.

Slowly he tilts his head to the side, regaining a dot of his usual humour. "I suggest you get up sweetheart or I might get some ideas."

Fuck even something stupid and perverted and ill-timed like that causes a wash of relief to roll over you as you get up, brushing off your knees and feeling under you chin for lacerations-

Before a finger-knife once again touches to the soft skin underneath your chin and - gently this time, - guides your head up, and Freddy's eyes flicker half-concerned and mostly unamused over the area. And maybe its wishful thinking, or the way you're still sensitive from fear from just almost getting killed, or what, but you detect a relieved tone in his voice, too. "You're fine."

Laughing Jack:

Controlled by- His own madness.

A lollipop stick - one of those BIG ones, that you see Bugs Bunny hit people like Yosimite Sam in the head with when he's pretending to be a baby,- gets thrown at you and you just manage to duck down before it nails you in the head- when you straighten back up, wide eyed, you see the thing wedged into the wall where your head was... sizzling.

Heart hammering like a crazed Bob The Builder in your chest, you look back at L.J, who's madness is quite literally swirling around visibly in his eyes right now and who's teeth look sharper then before somehow, and feel your heart sink into your feet. Raising your hands in the universal sign of surrender, you take a step back. "L.J... come on... "

"Pop... hehe... Pop! Pop- that's how the weasel goes? Right??" His voice is so sweet and British, but the growl that tears out of his very soul and turns yours to absolute ice as he hurls another poisonous not-so-fun-sized lollipop at you- the stick cramming into the plaster by your arm. Way too close for comfort. You can feel heat coming off of it and burning your skin like radiation. Goddamn, what did he dip this in? Unfathomably shiver inducing giggles bubble up out of L.J's chest, and you snap back to attention. "Pop... hehe... Like you!- If you eat that lolly."

Side stepping the lollipops, you put the kitchen table between you and your boyfriend. "Yeah... yeah, hilarious."

His eyes snap click to yours, cool and grey and killer focused. "Sarcasm?"

Oh hell- "No!" Desperately, you cry, surprised at what he's jumped to and terrified of that look in his beautiful, scary eyes. "No, its funny! Really!"

Oh my god, really! Truly!

Oh god you want to cry, not laugh! But you force a smile onto your face anyway, fingers gripping the dining chair in front of you so tight your knuckles turn white.

Slowly, a dangerous grin spreads across L.J's sharp, off-white angelic features. In a sing-song voice, as he follows a slow, deliberate, predatory course around the table to you as your eyes widen the closer he gets. "I~ Don't~ Believe~ You!~ "

Claws scrape against each other at one of his sides, and on the other his talon-like fingers itch around a pocket full of lethal treats- still deciding, you're sure, which devastating delectable to shove down your throat.

"L.J... please... " You stay cautiously, try to take a step back again and escape, but he grabs grabs you this time. holding you down in your spot by a shoulder, like a child getting a shot. "Ah!"

"Now stay still!~ Love you're just as sweet as a gum drop!" A short flicker of fondness whispers beyond his eyes, before his grip clenches down more painfully on your shoulder and it disappears again. All you can do is roll your shoulder, trying in vein to wiggle out of his grip and lessen the pain. "But to be quite honest with you I'm thinking you deserve something a little less ordinary don't you? Maybe, a... warhead, instead ey!?- Huh?"

You can hear his heartbeat slow down, as you press the side of your face against his chest, as you had lurched forward and arms wrapped around his waist as you hugged him warmly. "Please just come back L.J. I know you're having a moment but I need you to come back. I need you."

"This is!- This is really not- Very- Look I'm British, and this is not super dignified- " His voice is still high and mad, but you cant very well let him go now. This is your only remaining idea to bring him back.

Affection is hard for L.J on a good day, much less a hard one like this, but its the only human reaction you know for sure you can get out of him- and you're desperate.

"L.J... " Your voice is small, as you gaze sadly at the floor. "Please, come back to me... " An uncomfortable, strangled groan comes out oh him- but he does not rip you off of him.

In fact, the next thing you feel is the gentle tap of something familiarly cone-like on the top of your head as he casually touches his nose to your scalp.

"... I've come back, sweets...

Now please, please let me go- "

Offenderman:

Controlled by- Unknown, powerful force. (Possibly Zalgo?)

"Forever in love with the human Offender design that has him with long grey/silver hair.

"Uh... Offender?" Something about this man right now is... disconcerting best, you think as you set down the groceries on the hall table, kicking the front door closed and shedding your jacket from around your waist. He's standing silently, leaning against a wall instead of on the couch with the TV remote like he usually would be.

Now, his head turns slowly from the blank screened TV, to you- and you definitely feel a sense of dread settle in your bones.

No smirk, no flirty comment. He just stares; His lips resting in a thin, unchanging line like a robot.

"Offender? You... " Tilting your head to the side, you get a little bit concerned. "Okay?"

There's no response. Your eyebrows furrow.

"You wanna know my total at the register just now? 69 dollars. Ain't that funny?"

Now, usually that would make the over-powered moron laugh like an idiot, stamping his foot down onto the floor and all, but now a tentacle shoots out from his back and squeezes around your neck.

A gasp tears from your throat as he drags you up off of the floor, the tips of your feet barely scraping the carpet anymore. Tears cluster in your eyes from the suddenness of it all as you try and suck in air, but he's really getting to it. No holds bared. His grip is like steel, locking up your airway entirely, immediately.

You cant speak but you mouth his name, scraping your nails into the appendage as your legs writhe up to your stomach in the air, struggling to breath in air that he wont let you.

What... the... hell.

"I have a mission- stop. Must destroy weakness- stop. The Sexual Offenderman first- stop. No one will notice he's changed- stop." He talks like he's reading out a telegram, and its his voice but at the same time its not. There's absolutely no tone in it that would in anyway scream Offender, to you, but that generously chocolaty, gravelly voice belongs to no other body but his. So you know that its him. But what's wrong with him?

Who... are... you? You can barely think through your struggle to breath and the blind panic about death clearly nearing as black spots enter your vision, but you manage to think out that before your head goes foggy.

"Head of the mission anonymous- stOop."

Is it just the delirium stewing around in your brain or did his voice crack on that last syllable?

The tentacle suddenly snatches back from your neck, so fast it leaves a burn behind in its wake but you're more preoccupied landing on weak, bucking legs and taking in great big lung full's of air- before just as suddenly as you had been allowed reprieve, its stolen away from you again. This time his fist has taken its place, pinning your neck to the wall behind you- and your head spins, from the back of your head knocking harshly against the wall.

If your vision wasn't blurry before, it sure is now.

Offender's fingers flex around your throat, gripping it desperately- and you notice a deep frown on his mouth just before your eyes slip closed, a strangled cry escaping you.

Slowly... everything... every sense and every hurt... disappears, as you lose consciousness.

~

You don't know how much later it is when your eyes flutter open again, but miraculously they do and when you see Offender leaning against the wall this time, you scramble back backwards- to the headboard of your your bed.

Confused, you look around. You're in your bedroom, now. In bed. Your neck throbs still and to breath is to inflict pain upon yourself. Gaze flickers cautiously back to Offender, although you aren't so worried. If he was still under... whoever, or whatever... that was's, control, then he never would've stopped or let you go. Or set you down in your bed.

On inspection, all his tentacles are hidden away wherever they come from in his back again, and his arms are held carefully behind his back. When he notices that you're calm, heartbeat slowing down to a steady beat once again, you watch him as he lets out a relieved breath.

Still, his voice is cool and relaxed- if a little enthusiastic. Its Offender, and you feel a washed in relief that he's back.

"Fuck, baby. I dunno whatever the hell that was but I promise you its gonna get one hell of a wake up call when I find it." His sharp teeth shine in the sunlight filtering in through the window, as he scowls. Then he takes a deep breath, composing himself, as he comes forward and sits down on the edge of your bed. "Now c'mere, I gotta play doctor now."

Peter Hale:

Controlled by- A vampire (Possibly Damon Salvetore... for fun... ).

"Yep- Scott- Yeah, I got it. I've seen Twilight, okay?" You tease, snorting when theirs a scuffle on the other end of the phone and making out Styles voice snapping at Scott to hand him the diddly- damn- phone. Fishing through your bag, you get out of the key to Peters apartment and the vervain shot he needs to take. "Okay. I gotta go, I'm here. Tell Styles to calm down; I was kidding." You giggle, slipping the key into the lock. "Well- not about seeing Twilight. I actually enjoy it- bye!"

And quickly, you hang up the phone before either of the two boys can say anything else, slip your phone into your back pocket and open the door.

As you kick the door gently closed behind you, you look around got the particular sourwolf you're in search of. "Hey Peter? You home??"

In true Beacon Hills style- another enemy has reared its ugly head. And its not Peter this time, thank god. No, this time... it just had to be vampires.

Rolling your eyes, you venture deeper into the stylish downtown apartment. It was going to happen eventually, you suppose. Werewolves and Vampires kind of go hand in hand, if you are to take any of the supernatural teen romance pop culture seriously at all. Which at this point in life- you kind of do. How could you not, living here??

So here you are, baring gifts for your partner; A wealth of knowledge from Scott and Styles and a syringe full of vervain. And maybe a kiss or two, depending on whether he's nice.

A few moments pass as you go into the kitchen and turn on the fancy coffee maker Peter paid way too much for and get out two mugs- setting your bag down on a chair by the counter; Basically, making yourself at home. You practically live here at this point, so you always do this. Its nothing out of the ordinary.

But do you know what is, out of the ordinary??

The vampire.

As soon as that foul, sickly sweet, distinctly fake smell that your supposed enemy species is drenched with fills your nostrils suddenly, the hair all over your body stands on end. Goosebumps form all up and down your arms. Your head snaps up, and you look cautiously around.

Where... is... Peter. Where is your goddamn mate?

And where's the vampire?

Eyes flickering all around the room, you see immediately when the most bad boy vampire type guy ever walks into the room, on the other side of the dinner table and the counter to you, coming from the bedroom+bathroom area. You manage to stay composed, just opening your mouth to say hello, with a given amount of venom and suspicion bleeding through your tone- when an honest-to-goodness yelp is torn out of you, as hands come from behind and wrestle you against the side counter and the cabinets there, and your eyes snap up to see that its Peter.

Your shoulders drop, and you don't fight him. Heart thumping in your chest, at how wrong everything here is and how confused you are, and now Peter- you look up at him wide eyed confusion and concern. "Peter?"

He doesn't even look at you... just turns his head towards the vampire.

Your stomach immediately takes an awful plummet... down to your feet. You're too late. He's been compelled.

Feeling sick and uncomfortable, you follow his gaze to the vampire version of your mate. Because... yep. Stylish outfit, devil-may-care vibes, air of boredom? That's definitely a look that you're familiar with. Still, you cant help but feel very badly towards this, particular, fang-ier design.

"What the hell is going on?" You try to sound confident, and courageous- but mostly you're just worries. What's the play, here? You don't even know why the vampire's are here, in Beacon Hills. you have no idea what you're up against... and you hate it.

But mostly you hate how Peter, your mate, your boyfriend, your stupid formerly psychotic lover is caught up in it. Him being stuck here with you is one thing- but him not being him?? Oh... no. No, you hate this. With every fibre of your being.

And he smells like the demon, too. Disgusting.

"Oh- glad you asked." The man's voice hurts your superior, wolf-y ears, even as you aren't truly listening to him. Something about a werewolf biting his brother? Doesn't matter, anyway. Your gaze, turned concerned, slipped right back to Peter as soon as the bastard got caught up in his villainous spiel.

You manage to twist your wrists and yank them from Peter's grip, as he's just focused mainly on keeping you where you are rather then attacking the vampire probably, and reach up to gently cup his face- guiding him to look at you so you can worriedly assess him.

There's no Peter behind those eyes, you realise as you worry your bottom lip. Those eyes are hard, and dull, and thoughtless. Peter's pretty bored a lot of the time but there's never any doubt that theirs something - maybe something judgemental, and sometimes even nefarious, - going on in his head. But now?... nothing. And it breaks your heart a little, to see. "Peter... " You say again, just under your breath. Mostly just mouthing the word. Come back. Come back here, please?

"- are you even listening to me?... Ugh! And that was a really freaken good speech, too. Do your kind not appreciate the monologue? Come, on. Its traditional! You know? I tell you why I'm here, why I've gonna rip your head off, and you sit there all... you know, defiant! But scared, too, yeah. Its a good thing! Its one of the things I missed most about being the bad guy!" The guy, the vampire, grabs your attention again- appearing just on the other side of the counter; Which he leans on. You turn your face, anger burning in your face, to him just to scowl. Does he think this is funny?

Deeply rolling some seriously crystal-like blue eyes, the raven haired male drops his cheek into his hand- elbow resting on the bench. "Ughhh. So boring. Okay, fine. Seeing as its clear, that you two don't know anything useful.. I guess I'll just get rid of you both." He heaves a great sigh, then waives like 'get on with it' as he starts assessing some canvas prints on the wall. "Go on, wolf-man. Kill her. Then kill yourself."

Fury, sparked by fear, explodes in you and you suddenly try to lunge out of Peter's grip at the vampire, reaching out for his throat. "Why don't you do it yourself!?- " Peter yanks you back, though, before the vamp gets the good sense to move even an inch. "Ah!"

"Ahhh, there we go. Some quality defiance! That's what I like to see- too bad its too little too late... yea... sorry! I got crap to do today, so... uh... yeah, see ya! You know, or not."

Gritting your teeth, as Peter shows his claws... ready to slash your throat. "I hope your brother dies." Are your parting words for the bloodsucker.

"There's a club for that you can join! Too bad you'll be too dead to join, mm... Oh well! Bye!"

The bastard leaves the apartment before you can say anything else.

You're left just with Peter, who is literally about to kill you. But, still, you aren't able to back down, or shrink down, in front of him. Because its Peter, and no matter the fact that he is compelled, it still feels like him. And you don't have it in you to be scared of him.

Feeling determined suddenly, you slap your hands around his face again, and make him focus on you. "Peter." You say, sternly. More desperate and more powerful then before. You would think you stole the soul of Dame Maggie Smith. "Listen to me now." Looking deeply into those familiar eyes you love, you think only for the man you want back rather then your imminent death. "You said you cared about me. That you loved me. I need you to think about that, now. Right now. Because if you don't, you're going to go and do some things, you wont even be able to regret."

His hand stops.

Seeing that as a chance that he's hearing you, you step forward a smidgeon to be closer to him, and get gentler in your approach. As a werewolf, your connection to your mate isn't as huge and earth shattering as Wattpad fanfiction makes it out but it is something, at least, and you're hoping it helps here. Please. "I really need you right now. Please, Peter. I love you."

Then you bow your head, just laying your forehead under his chin and praying he comes back- but also taking a deep breath. Like its your last. Like you're getting ready... to die.

But too many more moments pass by without anything happening, and you want to lean back and see what's happening, if he's okay, but you're also afraid that if you do move it'll spook him. You're just holding onto him, your eyes squeezed shut, more conscious of his crazy familiar cologne that you're breathing in, then ever.

Then suddenly his body relaxes, and a hand comes down on the back of your hair. You suck in a deep breath and grip him tighter. Thank god. "... Its okay. I'm back, sweetheart... and we have a vamp to kill."

Peter Hayes:

Controlled by- Jeanine, via sim.

Suddenly you feel the familiar sense of gun pressed to the back of your head, and your heart goes cold. Because there is only one person you haven't accounted for- and you cant fight him.

Strong and quick at the same time, making him second in your class (Above you, for sure)... and also, the boy that gave you the purple and yellow marks on your throat.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to calm your racing heart. How stupid were you to finally trust him- he's a fucking snake and he's never going to be any different. No matter how much, consciously, you hope he will be. Or how much, subconsciously, you tell yourself its not going to happen. Taking in a shaking breath, you start to talk. "P-Peter- "

But you're cut off. "Oh, he cant hear you." Your eyes suddenly snap open again to find Jeanine not far away, strolling into the room. Immediately your eyes go cold, too, glaring at her. What? "He's in a sim. If he can hear you- he cant do anything about it. He's under my control." She shrugs, daintily. "Sorry."

Suddenly theirs no calming your heart as you freeze up. He's in a sim. God- your feelings about - for, - Peter are complicated but you know well enough that you hate this. You desperately want to turn around, shake sense into him, but you know it would be useless. Tris was only able to break Four out that time because they're insanely in love with each other- you don't even know if Peter really knows what love feels like.

So that leaves one option.

Suddenly ducking, you hear a bullet come free and fly through the air where your head was, as you squat and turn around. You grab onto Peter's ankle and give a sharp tug; Causing the boy to fall flat on his ass before he can even aim again.

As soon as you can, you climb up and rip the gun out of his hand before trying to scramble away, so you don't have to fight anymore for a multitude of reasons - he's stronger then you, he's faster then you, you're in love with him, - but a powerful hand grabs your ankle this time and the strength with which he uses to drag you back, beneath him this time, is enough to knock the air out of you. "Ah!- "

No- He clenches another hand around your arm and twists hard, stealing a gasp of pain from you and ensuring you don't struggle out of his hold.

He takes your wrist in his hand this time, squeezing so hard it hurts- so you get of the gun.

Peter - or the empty shell, - clicks the barrel into place then and presses it into the side of your neck.

The metal is cold and it shocks you, and you freeze, but your heart is mostly pounding because Peter's going to kill you. Jeanine walked off when he grabbed you again, leaving you to do alone.

You just look at him with eyes for a moment, breathing in and out heavily; Memorising the boy from Dauntless Initiation, that made everyone's lives hell just because he could, for no other reason then because there's nothing left to do for you, and he's pretty. You cant escape, you cant fight back... you're dead.

As that realisation dawns on you, you take a deep, shaky breath and you cant help but raise a shaky hand - the one attached to the arm that Peter is currently twisting with all his might, - , and touch his face. You don't know if he'll just press the trigger before you even get a chance to do this next thing, but you want to try.

"I don't know why Peter, but I always wanted to do this." You whisper, using his name not because he can hear you or you think he's in there at all, but just because that's who you want to kiss.

Then you do it, you curl your hand around the back of his neck and pull his not-resisting head down, and press your lips to his like you always read about- saw older faction members do- heard was done.

When you finish a second later, you're expecting him to just immediately shoot you, but instead you notice how focused his eyes are and your own widen, before he swoops down and presses a longer kiss to your lips.

You wrench him back this time, eyebrows knitted together as you search his face. He's out of the sim!? "Peter!?" You exclaim, full of shock. How did he-

"I kind wanted to do that, too." He tells you.

Scott (Total Drama):

Controlled by- A ridiculous, horrible Chris McLean original(tm) invention (A.K.A, a challenge) that allows a partner (A.K.A, Chaotic Mr Mal) to control the wearers actions. I mean, the object of the challenge is to get through the dangerous obstacle course, but I feel like Mal's gonna have a different kinda fun with this.

"MIKE!" You shout, scrambling out of the way before Scott's arms, and the crowbar in his hands, can come down anywhere on your body. Looking back with wide eyes at your boyfriend, who cant control his movements and is just desperately trying to let go of the damn pole. Turning your head to see Mike, next, you see him hit the control pad on some railing beside him and shrug, a panicked, helpless look on his awkward face.

"Its not working! Chris must have made them glitchy on purpose! Damn, this could really hurt someone!"

Now you look to Chris, eyes wide and furious. That does make sense!- "Hey, I didn't make them. That was the interns- but the idea, yeah, that was mine. Patent pending." Chris shrugs, giving a too-white smile to the some hidden camera.

Whatever, you think, knowing you have to focus on Scott now- so he doesn't kill you. As soon as you return your attention to him, you realise you should never have stopped watching him in the first place, because he is coming right at you again and you shriek- jumping behind him. "Scott!"

"Sorry, Y/N!! I- I cant control myself!" His reflexes are slow, due to him fighting his brain and his limbs, but farmer boy is still strong. If he gets a hold of you, if he gets you- you're done for. You'll be off the show, you might even be dead if he gets your head.

Wincing when he swings again, turning around- jump before he can get all the way turned; Wrapping you arms around him from behind, and holding on tight as you squeeze your eyes closed and bury your face in a shoulder blade. The likelihood of you being able to hold him still for long isn't good but what other choice do you have? You have to stay out of the way of that bar!

Cracking your eyes open, arms locked around your thrashing boyfriend, you peak back at Mike again- and catch just the end of a dark, evil grin. Your eyes widen as your breath clips, lifting your chin from the cotton Scott's tank. What?-

Immediately his elbow rears back and you take a blow to your stomach. "Ah!- " Ohhhh noooo... fuck, that does not feel good... In your pain, you let go of Scott; Stepping back away from him to hold your stomach- but not so far that you leave the obstacle course.

"Y/N!" Mike and Scott both yell, as you real from the pain and Scott's body turns to face you. Mike's voice is frazzled, still, and when you glance at him his face is back to normal too- but you do not trust him for a goddamn second after that look on his face. Maybe this really isn't Chris' fault, for once.

Well, if Mike isn't going to get Scott through the course, then theirs no need for you to play along with the challenge, either. As Scott comes at you again and the pain subsides in your stomach, you manage to reach up and catch his wrist - though you have to use both arms, and both arms tremble with the force it takes to hold Scott's arm and the dreaded crowbar above your head in the air and away from you, - , eyes slipping to Scott's. "Come on- " You force the words out, struggling to hold him off. "You gonna make me fight you Scotty?"

"I!... Cant!... Stop it!... "

Beginning to panic, because in a few seconds your arms are going to give and you're going to get a nasty wallop to your face, you glance quickly to the helmet on Scott's head controlling him. Okay. "Stop fighting it." You whisper quickly, looking back to Scott's eyes.

"What!?" He scowls, immediately. "No way! I'm not gonna hurt you- "

"Scott!" You snap, frustrated and losing your grip.

"Oh, fine!" With one last growl of effort, Scott lets go of the reigns and you let go of his arm- immediately shooting forward into his body so his arm flies down and knocks the ground with a BANG. Your hands go up quickly, and snatch the helmet off of his head; Chucking the bundle of rusted metal and wires onto the forest floor behind him.

For a moment everything is still. Scott stops moving entirely, and you're afraid you hurt him, yanking that mind-controlling helmet away from him. You slowly step back, wanting to look at his face and see if he's alright-

When the crowbar hits the ground heavily, and Scott grabs you back, wrapping his arms around you tightly- protectively. Immediately you relax into him and sigh, in relief. "I'm so sorry, Y/N! I don't know what happened, the damn machine musta glitched! I tried to hold back, but!-

"Its okay," You reply gently, holding him back just as tight as you bury the side of your face in his chest. "I know you weren't in control!- "

"But STILL- my pa didn't teach me much about romance but I do know that y'should never try and hit 'em with a prybar!" He gives you another squeeze.

#MultiVillains x Reader #MultiVillain x Reader #Offenderman x Reader #Creepypasta x Reader #Horror Villains x Reader #Slashers x Reader #Laughing Jack x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #The Huntress x Reader #The Clown x Reader #Anna x Reader #DBD Huntress x Reader #DBD Clown x Reader #Kenneth Chase x Reader #Jeffrey Hawk #TD Scott #TD Scott x Reader #Peter Hayes x Reader #Peter Hayes #Peter Hale #Peter Hale x Reader #MultiVillains x Reader Drabbles #Drabbles #Drabble

[vikkirosko]

The Metal Family + Chive and Anna (maybe?) see a child!reader who was left in the streets, following them like a duckling without them noticing until the reader trips and yell out mom/dad/big brother?

Platonic headcanons Abandoned child

💖 Glam x child!Reader 🎸

Glam was walking from the store towards his own and completely ignored the child who was following him. You followed him from the store, like a duckling following a mother duck. Glam wouldn't have paid attention to you if you hadn't tripped, smashed your knees and called him Dad. There was no one else on the street, so he decided to help you

As Glam found out pretty quickly, you were abandoned on the street and you had no idea where your parents were, so you mistook Glam for your father. He could not understand how someone could abandon a child, so he decided to contact the police. They promised him to find your parents, but in the meantime someone had to look after you. Glam has agreed to take on this role

You were a quiet kid and Glam had no problem looking after you. Sometimes you called him father and immediately apologized to him in embarrassment. Glam smiled gently and did not scold you for mistakes. For someone who was abandoned by your parents, you were quite calm, even though you were a little drooping

Glam wasn't sure if the police would be able to find your parents, but he was ready to take further custody of himself. He knew what it was like to be alone and didn't want that to happen to you. In such a short period of time, he managed to get attached to you as if you were his real child

🏍 Vicky x child!Reader 🚬

Vicky left the bar quite late and was about to leave towards home, but she heard a child's voice calling her, calling her mom. This baffled her. When she turned around, she saw a child who was sitting on the ground and blood was flowing from his knee. Vicky looked around but, not finding someone else, went to you to find out what you were doing alone on the street so late

As it turned out, you didn't know where your parents were. They left you on the street, telling you to wait for them, but when it started to get dark, they never came back. You went looking for them, but got lost and found a bar. There were a lot of people there, but you accidentally mistook Vicky for your mom and followed her all evening. Vicky was outraged that someone could act so irresponsibly. She couldn't leave you to your fate even though she didn't know how to communicate with children

She tried to find your parents, but you didn't know your exact address and therefore it was quite difficult to find your parents. Due to the fact that it was quite late, she took you to her house and left you at her place for the night. You were a pretty quiet kid and Vicky was surprised by that. She assumed that kids your age were more noisy, but you didn't cause any problems

Even after Vicky informed the police about what your parents left on the street, you stayed with her. You were scared to stay with someone else, so Vicky took care of you. She had no idea how to properly take care of children, but she couldn't leave you to your fate. She wanted to find out from your parents why they abandoned you and was not going to calm down until she found out the truth

📚 Dee x child!Reader📱

Dee finished his studies earlier than usual and walked slowly towards home. Ten minutes later, he heard someone following him. He didn't pay attention to it. The steps were clearly childish, so he decided that it was just a child who was walking in the same direction as him. However, pretty soon he heard a child crying and shouting "Big brother". There was no one else around, so he had to take on the role of an older brother for a completely unfamiliar child

As it turned out, you mistook him for your older brother. He was supposed to pick you up from school, but when you came out, you didn't find anyone. You tried calling your brother and parents, but they didn't pick up the phone. Dee didn't get mad at you. He tried to call your parents, but no one picked up the phone, so he offered to walk you home

Dee assumed that your brother might have forgotten that you needed to be picked up from school, but he couldn't find a reason why your parents didn't answer the phone. However, when you came to your house, there was no one there. After Dee talked to the neighbors, he found out that your parents and older brother left this morning. He didn't dare tell you about it and instead took you to his house, hoping that his parents would help in this situation

His parents called the police, but while they were looking for your parents, you remained under their supervision. You've been following Dee around. He was someone you trusted implicitly, so he had to take on the role of big brother for you. You didn't create as many problems as Heavy, so Dee could feel more at ease around you

🎮 Heavy x child!Reader 🐱

Heavy was forced to stay at school after lessons, so when lessons ended, he went home, thinking about how he would explain to his parents why he was forced to stay at school. He completely ignored the fact that someone was following him. However, when he heard someone crying and calling for his older brother, he turned around and saw a child who had fallen and was crying. There was no one else on the street except Heavy, so he hurried to help you

You were crying because you hurt your palms when you fell to the ground, so Heavy tried to cheer you up by making funny faces. He had no idea how to calm the child, but he hoped that it would help calm you down and make you take your mind off the wounds on your palms. To his delight, you really got distracted from the feeling of pain and smiled, looking at one of the funny faces. When he saw that you stopped crying, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief

He took you to his house to treat your palms. While you were walking, you told him that your older brother left you on the street and went somewhere. You've been waiting for him for a long time, but you didn't wait, so you went to look for him yourself, but instead of your brother, you met Heavy. He was outraged that someone could act so irresponsibly. He wanted to express his indignation to your brother, but Heavy had no idea where to find him, so he decided that his parents would be able to find your parents, your brother or other relatives

At home, Heavy explained to his parents what had happened. This worried them and Glam asked his son to look after you while they find out where your parents are. Heavy spent all this time with you, having fun with you, but when he went to the kitchen, he heard his parents talking about how your family abandoned you. Understood that it would be hard for you if you found out about it, so he decided to keep it a secret. He didn't want you to be sad again, and if he could delay the moment when you found out the truth, then he was going to do it

🧄 Chive x child!Reader 🎸

Chive was returning home late after he closed the store. There was no one on the street anymore and the silence was broken only by the sound of footsteps, his own and someone who was walking behind him. He did not pay attention to these steps until he heard the sound of a fall, a child crying and a child crying "Daddy" behind him. Chive couldn't stay away, especially considering that the child was calling him, to his own surprise

It took him a little while to calm you down, after which he took you to his house. You told him that your parents left you on the street, you were waiting for them to come back for you, but no one came. In the dark, you mistook Chive for your father. You were ashamed that you caused problems to an outsider, but Chive assured you that he himself would not mind helping

When he tried to call your parents at the number you gave him, no one picked up the phone. You weren't sure if your parents would pick up the phone. Chive felt sorry for you. He himself grew up with a parent who didn't care about him, so he decided to take care of you until the police found your parents

You were grateful to him for agreeing to help you. Chive understood that most likely your parents left you intentionally and then ran away, but he didn't want you to take on the realization that your parents didn't love you. To him you were an unhappy child who needed care and he was going to give it to you

🏍 Anna x child!Reader 📢

Anna's motorcycle broke down very close to her house, so she pushed him home to figure out what exactly broke down. Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice that someone was following her. Only ten minutes later, when she came very close to her house, she heard the sound of a fall and a child's cry of "Mom". Surprised, she turned around and saw you, the child who had been following her all this time

You were crying and she had to help you get to her house, where she treated your broken knee and calmed you down. As it turned out, your parents left you on the street. You went looking for them but got lost. You were scared, but when you saw Anna, you mistook her for your mom and followed her. You were ashamed of yourself. You blamed yourself for causing trouble to an outsider. But Anna firmly told you that you are not to blame for anything and that you will stay the night with her. She intended to find out who was so irresponsible as to leave a child alone on the street

In the morning, Anna made you breakfast and started fixing the motorcycle. She finished the repair pretty quickly and you were able to go to the address where you lived. Anna intended to tell your parents everything she thought about them. In the short period of time that you were under her care, she realized that you were a sweet and quiet child and she did not understand why your parents did this

Pretty quickly, you and Anna found out that your parents hurriedly packed up and left yesterday. When you found out about it, you could barely restrain yourself from crying. Anna was outraged by this and confronted you with the fact that since your parents were so irresponsible, she would become your mother who would take care of you. She intended to report the incident to the police later, but in the meantime she intended to take care of you

#Metal family #Metal family x Reader #Metal family headcanons #Glam #Glam x Reader #Vicky #Vicky x Reader #Dee #Dee x Reader #Heavy #Heavy x Reader #Chive #Chive x Reader #Anna #Anna x Reader

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Dbd - You Offer To Eat Them Out

Requested: Yes [I love your dbd hcs sooo much! (NSFW) Could you please write how the killers would react when a survivor they find attractive offers to eat them out/give them a bj? (you can choose anyone, but I'd esp. love to see Huntress, Charlotte, and/or Max)]

Warnings: Slight Angst in Max’s, Spice, implied virginity for all three killers

Huntress

Well however you manage to communicate to Anna what you want to do, she still doesn’t understand at first. “Eat her out”? You want to eat her???? She’ll threaten to eat you first, no matter how attractive she thinks you are. It’ll take another moment of explaining (while she stands there pointing a fork at you) before she really understands what you mean. You’ll probably need to provide her a chart. Or a drawing. Some sort of charades need to be done. But eventually she’ll get the gist, chuckling with a little smirk as she drops her axe, cupping your cheeks in her hands before forcing you down by your shoulders, undoing the laces to her pants. Who is she to refuse such a….kind offer?

Charlotte

Charlotte is also confused at first, though not at the same level as Anna, and will likely catch onto what you mean just a smidge faster than her. She’s blushing, absolutely flustered by the very idea. But she’s not opposed, especially with how attractive she thinks you are. But she doesn’t have any experience to speak of so she’s hesitant when you kneel in front of her, hiking up her skirts. But all worries fade from her mind the second she feels your mouth on her, and she can barely think for the rest of the day after this event.

Max

Another person who also doesn’t understand what you’re asking. But unlike the girls, he doesn’t understand when you explain to him. Yes, he has a vague idea of what sex itself is, but to the best of his knowledge that does not include putting your mouths on each other. His brain is also kinda malfunctioning cause he doesn’t understand how someone so attractive would want to do something like this with him anyways. Eventually he’ll just reach the conclusion that you’re doing this for mercy, so that you can escape in your next trial against him. And while the thought hurts, it’s the only thing that makes sense to him, so he feels like he can just pretend you actually have an interest in him as you swallow his cock, his moans echoing in the shack of Coldwind farm.

#dbd #dead by daylight #anna the huntress #anna the huntress x reader #Anna #Anna x reader #the Huntress #the huntress x reader #charlotte deshayes #charlotte deshayes x reader #max thompson jr #max thompson jr x reader