#DBD The Clown

[glimborgus]

greyscale sketches of kenneth chase from dbd

[bass-si]

Question: How long you are in fog? What were your first impressions when you wandered into the world of Entity? |TW: Blood|

[slasher-detective]

Finished the table I was working on! (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

[hej-krukowaty]

I just think he's neat

[diejager]

Joyce, can we have headcanons regarding that sicko bastard known as Jeffrey Hawk aka The Clown? I ADORED that thing u said about him having a dad bod ❤️❤️

*Hands you an ordinary Ultra Ball as a gift*

Oddballer, you’re asking a lot from me, aren’t ya?? That man is just so big and filthy that I’m sure he smells.

The Clown NSFW Headcanon

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, drinking, blood, gore, amputation, clown stuff, manhandling, gas/hazing??, tell me if I missed any.

Once a young and athletic kid, building his body to fit a certain way to help him ease through all the hard labour he did, now it his under a warm layer of fat, thick and heavy, bulging over his belt and breast round and soft. He might’ve had some difficulty to run, ambling or striding across the fields with a slow and taunting skip to his step, menacing while he hit the cork of his bottles and shook his special concoction. It made him all the more terrifying, slow and comfortable in his walk, strategic and strangely familiar with every type of hunt, ears keenly aware of the screams and pants of survivors, hungry for the dopamine those pained sounds gave him —especially yours. 

His special bird, the first he’d every wanted to keep, locked away from the other killers and survivors alike, chained to his carney’s caravan by the ankle, bloody and filthy just to his liking. It brought back memories, favourable ones, his first successful hunt, catching a little robin in his hand, the soft and pretty red plumage picked and broken, but you weren’t something he wanted broken.

He liked the fire in your eyes, the fearful and spiteful glare you sent him when he cornered you in the chosen realm, snarling at him like a feral creature. While he hated doing unnecessary work, abhorred the thought of you losing the flare in your being, taming such a wild cat was rewarding by itself. If he could tame you enough to be able to hold and touch you without too much fight, but keep your temper, it was a win-win in his mind. There was nothing more he hated than a husk, a shell of a broken man to keep as a pet. 

He took brave and foolish alike, young or old, nothing was off the table for him, all he needed was the true part of them, a finger to remember his exploits and victory, throwing away the part he deemed trash —fake. He could smell it from their bodies and figured that the hands - fingers - were the truth, a part that showed the person’s life, deeming it a satisfactory boon for him conquest, but you, all parts of you sang a different story to good ol’ Jeffrey Hawk. A true treasure to keep intact. 

While he would love to keep you to himself, a little bird that would sing to him every day with snapping teeth and kicking feet, he wasn’t as favoured by her as other killers were, almost forgotten to his dirty little corner of the forest in his bloodied and smelly caravan, fingers littering every flat surface and beer bottles stacked or rolling across the floor. If he had such a favour, he would keep you in a comfortable corner, placed over a sullied mattress with blankets stacked over it, keeping you warm while he dressed you in his shirts, all browned and smelling of metallic blood and his musk. 

It was thick and heady, mixing with a scent of alcohol and iron, age-old sweat and dirt. You’d complained about his stink, gagging and choking on the many times he cornered you, pressing himself against you to feel and smell you under his grasp. Nose buried in your hair and arms pulling you to his front, your back arching by the neck against the solid mass of his stomach, soft and pudgy if it wasn’t for his rough clothes scratching your tender skin.

It brought tears to your eyes. Be it from the stench of him and his intoxicating tonics, or his wandering hands, slipping under your shirt until it rode up, removing a piece of protection from his hungry eyes, he loved watching you cry. Call it a recreational hazard from his job, tears and wails were just a part of his duty under The Entity’s guidance, but he simply adored your pretty tears, pearly things rolling down your cheeks and your cute sobs filling his lecherous ears.

You don’t know how much it affected him, the pout when you bit your lower lip in frustration while you struggled against him, the squirming that riled him when he had you in his arms, and your spitfire-like tongue, hurling every insults under the sun at him. It stirred something deep in his guts, a dark pleasure bubbling from his loins, fattening the growing hardness between his leg. He easily got worked up by you, the solitude of his lifestyle and the starvation for any kind of touch led his to drool and hunger for it. 

Your skin against his, soft and beautiful, bending easily under his kneading hands, his rough and bloodied glove as forced you on his lap, seated still to let him lap and suck at your small fingers. His tongue curling around your index, thick and lithe, and suckled in his warm and wet mouth while his tongue felt around, drool running down your wrist. He lost himself in these moments, aroused out of his mind and huffing hot breath against your disgusted face.

He liked your reaction —he liked any reaction you gifted him. He savoured each and every one, your gleeful ones, your sorrowful ones, your frustrated one, and your painful ones. He drank it all up like the drugs and alcohol he found pleasure in, gorging on you like an addict would. You were his new addiction, his new drug and dependence. And he hungered.

[typednegative]

Hi! So, my main platform is Instagram, but I thought I’d give Tumblr a go. I’m an artist and writer. Here is my latest piece, which is my crossover of Captain Spaulding and the Clown from Dead by Daylight. These characters are special to me and there are some similarities between them, like their grody personalities, violent nature and interest in performing as clowns, needless to say. So here they’re gonna perform as each other. Something tells me they’d go for a drink together and talk shit about the people that aggravate them. I colored this with Prisma pencils and bleed proof white. Hope y’all enjoy! 🖤🤡💀🩸

[jthezombshark]

DAWG SLIPKNOT??!!!?!?!?!???!?? LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO?!?!?!?!?!?

[barcodeboyz]

Portia and Jeffery BFFs confirmed dbd

[youcancallmenoob]

e

naild it. finishd it. Had bit too much with stretch marks.... as... i imagine he was kinda fit before circus life and then just WHOMP got big in like half a year.

Edit: I FORGOT MY SCREEN ON WRONG SETTING AND I NOW SEE THIS ON MY OHONE ITS SO DARK. FKSKSJSHAHA. NAILD UT STILL

also ima do ginge pspspspsps  @lettherebemonsters @dbd-clowndaddy-05​ @sadclownuwu​

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains and: What They Would Put in the Hat

(The 7 Minutes in Heaven hat)

This was pretty much inspired by This post by @your-mxnd-is-mxne ! ^^

Warnings: Cursing and gore (As in limbs being put in the hat)

Animal the Cannibal: A potato peeler. BE CAREFUL.

Baby Firefly: A cute scrunchie. Put it in your hair!! She thinks you'll look so cute ^^ If you don't have hair/its too short, you can put it in hers! ^^ (So basically you win everything)

Billy Loomis: A folded up poster for the local cinema's horror night. They're playing Psycho, The Birds and then Psycho 2 Back-To-Back.

Bo Sinclair: Little plyers. he never leaves home without them, so you better give them back! Play nice and he may use them on you *cough*

Bubba Sawyer: A pig femur... its not clean...

Candyman: A little leather bound journal with his poetry in it. If he likes you, maybe he'll read you some!!

Captain Spaulding: A pamphlet for his shop! He'd just fucken love to show you around.

Carrie White: A pencil. She wasn't sure and she didn't have a whole lot on her! she hopes that's okay ^^

Chop Top Sawyer: His sunnies! Not his wig, that's special. But you got his glasses! He even wants to see you put them on.

Chucky Lee Ray: He put his whole damn shoe in there. I mean, he's a doll. Why not? // If he's in his human form, though, maybe... a... condom...

BONUS for @your-mxnd-is-mxne because its their idea in the first place ^^ Daddy Hall- *cough* I mean Doc Halloran!: Bullet casing. Its, oddly enough, the only thing that was in his pockets?? 😅 After all he is only here to hunt Leslie- see if you can distract him, though.

Dr Suave: A pack of tooth floss from his pocket. He's a dentist, what do you expect from him?

Drayton Sawyer: The keys to the chilly van (Its all he had on him). He's gonna want them back.

Freddy Krueger: A scrap oh his sweater and it turns to dirty brown dust as soon as you see what it is.

Granny Boone: Buckman's initialed handkerchief.

Harper Alexander: A twig that's been widdled a whole bunch. It may snap in your hand- don't you worry, he don't mind ^^

Inkubus: Ripped piece of paper with a backwards K scribbled into it. You get ink stains on your fingers.

Jack Dante: An action figure! Probably He-Man or something. You can play with it for now but you're gonna give it back when he goes home.

Jason Voorhees: A chunk of moss. Its squishy and fresh.

Jedidiah Sawyer: A tie! He's a well dressed man and always brings an extra XD

Jennifer Check: Cherry Coke Chapstick! You know she's that super cool person who had all the branded soda flavours. And she may even apply some to you~

Jerry Dandridge: His scarf. And its cold- why don't you wear it for a while?~ He's very charming. And this is the man you're gonna get stuck in a closet alone with for nearly 10 minutes! Goodluck-

Leslie Vernon: His mask. He's gotta spread the word!! Make sure people know who he is! This felt like a marketing opportunity.

Lester Sinclair: That grizzly lookin' knife of his. Listen to him chat about it and he'll love you forever.

Luda Mae Hewitt: Wooden spoon. Her logic? If she goes in there with someone iffy she can beat them with it.

Max Grief: Cassette tape out of his car. He wasnt sure what to really put in, so, *shrug*

Mayor Buckman: Boone's initialed handkerchief (Yeahhhh, they're cute like that XD).

Mental Manny: Straw twisted and bent into the shape of some satanic symbol. You feel uncomfortable holding it. But oh, he wants you to have it now~~ A gift.

Michael Myers: Someone's ear.

Mickey Altieri: A snack. Like a cookie from a vending machine or a pack of 2 minute noodles. You can have it, no worries.

Midnight Man: The page with the names on it. ... wanna play a game?

Miss Quinn: Her hand mirror. Come on now, sweetheart!!~ We'll make you look pretty.

Monty Hewitt: A screwdriver. You got anything he can fix up rela quick? He doesn't mind, if it means he can get away from Hoyt for a bit.

Otis B. Driftwood: You don't wanna know. I'm not telling you. Put it down.

Pamela Voorhees: Her drivers licence. She was looking in her wallet and thought it was logical- plus she sure as hell wasn't putting in her polaroid of Jason.

Patrick Bateman: His card, of course. Its so damn crisp- you get a paper cut.

Pennywise: A horn! Honk honk!

Rocco the Clown: Some poor bastard's kneecap. Yes. A kneecap. And I still won't tell you what Otis put in the hat.

Roman Bridger: A very fancy pen. The kind thats like 50 dollars for one. It's for signing contracts but he likes to show off that he has it.

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr: 'His' sheriff's badge! He wants you to comment on it, too- call him Sheriff Hoyt- stroke his ego. That's all he wants.

Stu Macher: A lollipop! You can have it, he's already sucking one. You two can have matching blue tongues!

Stuart Lloyd: Someone forced him to chuck in the USB that his little movie is on- he's terribly anxious about it and hope that you'll just give it right back and don't play it. Its not done...

DBD! The Clown: A little travel bottle with a suspicious liquid inside. He suggests that you drink it... I suggest you do not. Unless, you know, you're into it-

DBD! The Deathslinger: A wrench. He's a handy man and never leaves the house without his handy wrench!

The Djinn: ... the jewel...

DBD! The Huntress: A bunny ear from a bunny doll. She can do it herself but if you sew it back onto her dolly then you have a friend for life.

The Man (Hush): A switchblade. He's gonna want it back but (; you can keep it while you're in the closet with him if it makes you feel safer.

Taxidermist: Some kind taxidermists tool. Maybe a fleshing cone or a necker knife.

Thomas Hewitt: A pretty rock. 🪨

Vincent Sinclair: A notepad so he can talk to you if you don't know sign language ^^

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: A crushed can of coke. He doesn't carry shit around with him and he sure as fuck is not handing over his knife.

[yoitsgb]

Q:  Did you know that "Jeffrey" is not clown's real name. And how much do you know about him and his past?

[mara-xx217]

I was inspired by the knights x male reader post so I was wondering what some of the more Conservative male killers would feel if they realised they had a crush on male suviver *cough* the trapper *cough*

Okay I genuinely enjoyed that ask so here it is if anyone is interested~

This is gonna be a really rough ride, so make sure to keep the warnings in mind!

Warnings: Homophobia of Varying degrees, Homophobic Slurs, Repressed Sexualities, Canon Typical Violence and Death, Forced Feminization, Non-Con/Rape, Medical Abuse, Attempted Conversion Therapy, Drugging, General Warning for Disturbing Content

Evan Macmillan/The Trapper

He's probably one of the first killers that comes to mind when this question is asked.

It's impossible to overstate how terrible his unbridled fury is upon witnessing you for the first time.

The attraction he felt was instant and it was disabling. Unfortunately for you, the only way he was disabled was due to the fact he was completely blinded by rage.

Confusion, anger, disgust and longing are the emotions that he feels the strongest when you are around him.

The Trapper reacts with overwhelming violence whenever it comes to you. It brings him cardinal pleasure unlike anything else in the world, especially when he had you pinned down underneath him.

Hurting you was the only way the Trapper knew how to relieve the pain that he felt. He didn't want to see you as an individual and certainly not as an equal. You were just an object, a thing that he could abuse and certainly not something that he felt any amount of attraction towards.

Maybe he could find a way to make you appear more... appealing to him. To him? Or to his father?

The dress was ugly and you couldn't apply any makeup properly on yourself due to how badly your hands always shook from fear and from pain. It didn't matter. If it wasn't smeared due to your trembling hands, it would be from your tears and from the Trapper shoving your face into the mattress as he takes you from behind yet again...

Evan was never accepted by his father. He never would be. He was a disgrace... Disgusting...

He would make you a disgrace, too.

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Homosexuality has been classified as a mental disorder since before the first edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) in 1952. It is something that Herman Carter believed since before he was in medical school and it was something he continued to believe even as 'the Doctor'.

The Doctor is interesting in that he is a sadomasochist, enjoying to experience the same pain, the same 'treatments' that he was subjecting his 'patients' to.

He is delusional in thinking that he was trying to 'cure' you of your chronic illness while refusing to introspect in any way, ensuring that he remains willfully ignorant of the very same aspect of himself that he shares with you.

Electroshock therapy would be performed onto you over and over again, until the damage is too much for your body to bear and you are ferried back to the survivor's camp via the Entity. All manner of 'reconditioning' will be attempted, all will fail, almost as if they were designed to do as such.

"I can't change this... You can't change this... Please... I-I'm not sick-"

The Doctor wishes to understand why you enjoy homosexual sex. He wishes to understand the same about himself, though it is masked in a twisted sense of medical, scientific curiosity.

How can he 'help' you if he doesn't understand why you indulge in the perverse?

The Doctor believes that, should you experience sexual trauma, it would 'assist' you in developing an aversion to homosexuality. It doesn't matter whether or not you have experienced some aspects of sexual trauma, deep down, the Doctor only wished to experience the euphoria of sodomizing you forcibly.

Your screams and cries are like music to his ears...

He will continue to find ways to push your limits. Will you renounce your identity? Will you accept that fact that you are a sick, perverted little man? Or will he have to continue to break you until you do?

Jeffery Hawk/The Clown

He is one that kids himself the least when it comes to the fact that he's a sick, twisted, perverted fuck.

The Clown will never admit to ever having sexual encounters with men in any capacity. Exactly who the fuck do you think he is?! He'll kill anyone that would dare to insinuate such a thing while in the same night drugging an unsuspecting passerby and not only cutting off a favourite finger, but having his way with his either fully or partially unconscious body.

He was never picky when it came to the gender or age of his victims. Women, men, the elderly, children... The Clown only had an eye for hands, for fingers, and if he saw a beautiful digit, he simply had to have it.

It's unusual for him for keep a victim of his alive for a prolonged period of time, both before and during his time in the Fog. Perhaps he was craving more brutality, maybe he was thinking about his father a little too much in recent times... The Clown decides that a one off encounter wouldn't be enough for him.

Unluckily for you, you were the one he had his eyes set on for the longest time, and it was you that would face the absolute worst of his wrath.

The Clown dislikes working for his fun. Drugging you is his method of domination, in contrast to many of the other killers that use brute force and indiscriminate violence to exert his will over your own.

Humiliation serves just as much of a source of pleasure as his cheirophilia does. To see another person appear so small underneath him, to cower before him and to beg for mercy in spite of its futility... It's arousing for him.

Kenneth Chase learned nearly all of his worst traits from his father. 'He learned from the best', as he always said. If he didn't hate him so much, it could have been a source of pride for him.

What would dear old dad think of him now that he has some 'faggot' in a dress taking his cock up his ass every night?

You looked totally pathetic day in and day out. Maybe it was for that reason why he wouldn't kill you. Not yet, anyway. It's as entertaining for him as it is sexually gratifying. The Clown could keep you around for an untold amount of time, as drugged as he keeps you.

He makes sure to keep you docile, too weak to fight back or run away but only just aware enough so that you understood to a degree what was happening to you in the moments where your consciousness was fleeting.

Kazan Yamaoka has his own ask in this very vein so he'll be addressed in another ask!

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @cherrysodalite, @thanksatt, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather @horny-3

[bass-si]

The Clown-fish!

[slasher-detective]

This is a few months old but I figure I'd upload it anyways lol

two of my fav DBD bois

First time drawing them so they look a lil wonky 😂

[clownfuckerrights]

finally posted my first dbd fic! got a few more clown fics like this brewing but wanted to get this one up :)

[dbdannoyingnancy]