#dead by daylight anna x reader
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devoted-horror · 10 months ago
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giving the new survivor hatch.
a/n: this is my first time writing for dbd in general, so!! i hope i do this game justice bc i play it every day lol
includes: the huntress, the trickster, the ghostface, the artist, the cannibal.
warnings: not proofread, typical dbd stuff like blood, mentions of murder, things like that, gn reader, love at first sight but only if u tilt ur head and squint really hard, inconsistent length, im going to be so delusional over jiwoon im sorry, i can't speak russian or korean so i just used a bunch of translators sorry if i got smth wrong, inaccurate behavior of dbd crows but relatively accurate behavior of irl crows i think, scream reference in danny's part bc i had to, reader injury in jiwoon and danny's parts, written over the course of a few months so sorry if the pacing is weird.
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THE HUNTRESS
Anna has been in the fog long enough that every face of everyone she's ever killed has started to merge together into one. She doesn't know their names, and hardly ever reacts whenever she encounters a new survivor.
Mercy is not something she shows during trials. She is a hunter, and anyone who crosses her path, be it man or animal, is her prey. Nothing in the wild is merciful.
And you were nothing more than another person for her to hunt, prey for her to kill. And trust me, she was going to kill you.
Or, at least, she was.
And then you dropped a pallet on her. Now, normally, Anna would get very angry when this happens. Her prey is fighting back, and though it gives her a thrill, it's annoying. And for a brief moment, she did feel angry the moment the pallet hit her.
But then you were apologizing, a look of genuine guilt on your expression. You even asked if she was bleeding. Your survival instincts were lacking, clearly, but Anna found that to be... oddly endearing??
She felt a surge of protectiveness spark within her, something she had never felt during her time here. It was a familiar feeling, yet one so foreign at the same time.
But how could she not feel such a way when you were staring up at her, clearly scared that she was going to hurt you yet brave enough to stand in front of her and apologize for something that, by all means, you should have done.
Anna just stares you down for a long moment, having an internal struggle with herself on what she should do with you. Ultimately, her need to protect overruled her need to hunt, because after breaking the pallet between the two of you, she made a gesture for you to follow her.
And, not wanting to die, you did.
She took you to a shack, something you've heard other survivors refer to as the killer shack. The only reason you knew this is because you were told to stay away from it unless you wanted to get put in the basement.
She just pointed to one of the corners of the building, and looked over at you, "Оставайся здесь." And you didn't immediately understand her, though you were quick to pick up on what she was telling you. It seemed as if she wanted you to stay here.
Your safest bet on surviving was doing what she said, so you just nod and awkwardly place yourself in the corner she had been pointing at. She doesn't spare you another glance as she leaves you alone.
You're not sure how long you stayed there. You could hear the other survivors screams though, and you felt sick to your stomach at the sound of them being hooked and sacrificed to the Entity. They probably won't be too happy about this the next time you see them...
It was only when you were the last one standing that Anna came back to retrieve you. She found you exactly where she had left you, and even though you couldn't see her face due to the rabbit mask, she seemed rather pleased that you had actually listened to her.
If she had it her way, Anna would keep you by her side. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. The Entity would probably force the trial to end if you didn't either escape or die.
She begrudgingly brought you to hatch, the black mist pouring from it, silently promising safety if you jumped into it. You stared at it, confused about what it was, and that protectiveness she was feeling only seemed to grow stronger when you looked up at her for an explanation. The only explanation she offered was a slight gesture to you, and then the hatch.
"Иди, кролик." She says, lightly pushing you to the hatch and watching as you hesitantly decide to trust her, jumping into the hatch and leaving her alone as the fog comes and places her back in the Red Forest.
If she's lucky, she'll be in a trial with you again soon.
THE TRICKSTER
He'll immediately recognize you to be new. He prides himself in recognizing every survivor he's encountered, either by their face or by the sound of their screams. Mostly their screams.
And he certainly didn't recognize the scream he heard when one of his throwing knives ricocheted and hit you while he was chasing down another one of the newer survivors; Sable. It was a small, startled scream, nothing worth his attention, but it was new. That was enough to make this trial more exciting, and he found himself keeping his eyes peeled for you.
Which... was a lot easier than he expected it to be, because you just kept running right into him. Seriously. Did you not pay attention to your surroundings? Do you think he's a survivor?? Do you not see the bloodied fucking bat he's holding???
He's not sure if he's annoyed or amused by this. Partially both, to be honest. It's amusing to see you relax for a split second after bumping into him, not recognizing him to be the killer immediately. It's annoying because he'd like to hear you scream, please and thank you.
Jiwoon doesn't necessarily target you during the trial. To be honest, he's trying to weed out the other survivors before focusing his attention on you.
He wanted to take his time with you, to see what sounds he could pull out of you before the Entity forced the trial to end. Just the sound of you gasping whenever you bump into him has his mind racing.
This was honestly enough to keep him motivated throughout the entire trial, a certain bloodlust sparking in him. He relished the sound of everyone else's screams, but they weren't appealing to him right now.
He needed the other survivors out of the way. He needed you alone. And when he finally got rid of the last pesky survivor, the fun began.
And when he corners you in killer shack, he really didn't plan on being merciful. He wanted to hear you scream, and then he wanted to kill you, really. That was his plan.
The only way you'd get out of this alive is if you beg, honestly. And I mean beg. On your knees, crying, pleading, offering something in return for your survival. That sort of begging.
You were new and shiny in comparison to all of the other survivors, and maybe it's because he's a sadistic bastard, but he really does adore the sight of you on your knees, crying as he absently nicks your skin with one of his throwing knives.
This is where Jiwoon feels a bit torn, truth be told. He's never been a patient man, so he wants to get as many screams out of you as he can before the Entity forced the trial to end. But at the same time, he knew he'd see you again in a future trial, sooner or later.
It wouldn't hurt to prolong his time with you, would it?
The entire time he's pondering this, he's dragging the blade across your skin, relishing in the sweet sounds of your gasps and whimpers, and you stutter out a desperate 'please'.
Ultimately, Jiwoon decides to be nice, just this once. He'll mutter a quiet, "짜증나..." before hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you off.
You struggled, obviously, assuming he was ending your misery and taking you to a hook. He didn't really mind much, having an iron grasp on you that kept you from wiggling free.
He dropped you right next to the hatch once he found it, finding your small pained sound to be adorable as you look at your salvation with a confused expression. But before you can crawl into it and escape, he's grabbing you by the back of your shirt and pulling you back a bit.
For a moment, you think he's going to kill you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting pain. But nothing comes. You feel him tuck something in your shirt, and he lightly pats your cheek, cooing a bit at your terror before he lets you go and leaves you alone.
And when you're back at the campfire, you find a photo of Jiwoon neatly folded and tucked into your shirt, signed with his autograph.
He'll have an encore the next time he sees you, and you can only hope you don't find yourself in a trial with him again any time soon.
THE GHOSTFACE
Would actually never give you hatch under normal circumstances. He's here to kill, so kill he shall. He treated you the same as any other survivor when he first saw you, though it wasn't until he was in chase with you that he realized how interesting you were.
For one, you were... surprisingly good at looping him?? For a newbie, he was rather impressed. That's not enough to get him to let you live, but it's definitely a start.
No, his interest is only truly piqued when you start quoting horror movies during chase.
Honestly, if he didn't know any better, he'd think you to be flirting with him. A person after his heart, truly.
It was only when he had you cornered that you really caught his attention. You weren't scared, and it intrigued him as much as it annoyed him.
He was just itching to dig his knife into you and take a photo of your lifeless corpse once he was finished. But even with your life at risk, you showed no fear.
Hell, you even mocked him.
"No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel."
Sure, you weren't the first survivor to mock him, and you certainly won't be the last, but he found you interesting.
Oh, he needed to kill you. He needed your photo in his collection, it would be his favorite.
But he thought it would be more fun to humor you. Danny was a patient man. This isn't the first time he's drawn out a kill.
You were honestly surprised that he had left you alone. You didn't think that would actually work, and you were... a bit concerned, actually. None of the other killers you had ended up in a trial with during your short time here has entertained you the way Danny has, and you're not sure if you should be scared or not.
And, much to your very hesitant relief, you didn't see him for the rest of the trial. You knew he was watching you though. Every once in a while, you just felt... you're not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost felt as if you were being hunted.
You'd see him from the corner of your eye though. Never for long, just quick flashes of his screaming mask. Honestly, you felt less scared when he was actively trying to murder you.
That's how the rest of the trial went for you, at least. Until eventually, you were the only one left standing. You may be new, but the other survivors had given you the rundown of what to do if you were the last one standing before the trial had started.
You had to find hatch. Which was... easier said than done, truthfully. Especially since you weren't sure where the fuck Danny was. There's no way he was letting you go, right? He's probably saving you for last, right?
Whenever you so much as caught a glimpse of something moving, you were scurrying in the other direction.
This is pretty much Danny's way of giving you hatch. There's no way he'd give it to you directly, not yet.
You had honestly thought you had found it all by yourself until you were fucking stabbed, the flash of a camera in your face blinding you.
Truth be told, Danny did plan on killing you. He had wanted to give you a false sense of hope. But your stupid little smile when you saw hatch got to him, okay? So he'll settle for this for now.
"You owe me."
And he doesn't even spare you a glance as he pushes you into the hatch's mist, his gaze intently focused on the photo of you he had just taken.
Unfortunately for you, you've caught his attention.
THE ARTIST
Carmina is one of the more merciful killers you may come across, so she'd be fairly likely to give a new survivor hatch depending on how the trial has gone and whether or not she's consumed by anger.
She only realizes that you're new to the fog when her crows surround you and you don't try shooing them away. When she finds you, you're actually... rather content having a murder of crows surrounding you.
Very very confused. She'll probably just stare at you for a hot second as you go about the trial without a single care for the crows swarming around you. Even the crows are confused.
You distract her long enough with your antics that a good chunk of the gens pop, and she had to force herself to leave you be in order to focus on hunting the other survivors.
She'll ignore you for the entire trial after she leaves you be. Her crows can keep watch for her.
So for the rest of the trial she's only vaguely aware of your location, occasionally stopping once in a while to determine whether or not her crows were still with you. They were.
Even the other survivors seemed confused by your behavior.
On the rare occasion that she bumped into you during the trial, it was always when another survivor was nearby trying to tell you how to get rid of the crows.
You never even tried to shoo away the crows throughout the entire trial, and at some point, they stopped swarming around you. They didn't go away, no. You, somehow, managed to tame Carmina's crows with little trinkets that you found littered across the place.
Honestly, the crows seemed to like you enough that even if Carmina told them to hurt you, they probably wouldn't listen to her. It's hard to believe that you were a new survivor with how calm you were about everything happening.
It's probably that calm nature, coupled with your ability to calm her crows, that solidified in her mind that you were the only one who would make it out alive.
And with a newfound determination, Carmina sacrificed the other three survivors with no issues, and she could hear hatch opening not too far away from her.
With the help of her crows, Carmina was able to easily bring you to hatch, and she could only tilt her head to the side and make a small, croaking sound as you smiled and thanked both her and her crows before jumping into the hatch.
This is one of the many moments Carmina laments no longer being able to create art. She'd love to immortalize the image of you smiling at her, surrounded by her crows.
THE CANNIBAL
Bubba is honestly torn when he spots you, because you look so afraid, cowering in fear at every little sound and struggling to repair a generator like the others had told you to. He understands your fear because it's something he's very familiar with.
And while he has a job to do, not wanting to disappoint the Entity, he can't help but find it hard to hurt you. No matter how hard it was, Bubba had no choice.
But when he approached you, you didn't run. Sure, you let out a startled shout, the generator blowing up in your face as you stared up at him like a scared animal, quietly begging him not to hurt you.
But you didn't run.
How could he hurt you when you weren't running from him? Everyone always ran. But not you. You weren't running from him, and he didn't know what to do about that.
Bubba's trouble was so very evident. He's always been an expressive person, so it wasn't hard to tell that this was stressing him out. His free hand kept clenching and unclenching his apron, and he kept making small noises in the back of his throat.
He doesn't want to disappoint the Entity, he doesn't. But he's not sure if he can hurt someone who's not running from him. You aren't running! He really likes that! The only people who never ran when he was around were his family!
The nail in the coffin is when you, even despite your fear, took a chance and set down the toolbox you were holding. You... you gave him a gift. Not one that he could use, but a gift nonetheless.
There was literally no way he could hurt you now the guilt would eat him alive. So, he just opts to leave you be to instead focus on the other survivors. He wouldn't feel guilty hurting them.
The entire trial, Bubba focuses all of his attention on getting rid of the other survivors. If he sees you, he gets all nervous and can't even look at you for long without babbling incoherently before scurrying away.
Some of the other survivors may pick up on Bubba's strange avoidment of you, and may even use that to their advantage by running by you in chase because Bubba just... he can't hurt you, I'm sorry.
He's swinging his chainsaw, and then suddenly Kate is running by you and he's coming to a full stop out of fear of accidentally hurting you.
It really stresses him out, and even though you're still scared of him, and even though he's supposed to be killing you, you can't help but feel bad. So whenever the other survivors got a little too close when Bubba was chasing them, you always made sure to stay out of his way.
It's okay to be a bad teammate because it's Bubba.
Jokes aside, Bubba takes his job as a killer very seriously. He may avoid hurting you, but he makes quick work of the other survivors.
And when hatch opened right next to Bubba after killing the third survivor, he took it as a sign from the Entity that he was meant to give it to you. Why else would it open next to him?
Bubba was ever the gentleman when he brought you to hatch, guiding you to it carefully and making sure you didn't trip on any debris littered across the area.
He even scared off a few judgmental crows! He knew how off-putting it was to have them watching you all the time, especially when you're new in the fog.
And when you quietly thank him, smiling at him as if he weren't a killer, Bubba was just over the moon.
It's been so long since he's had someone to protect. The fog is a scary place to be but he'll do his best to make it a happy place whenever you two are in a trial together.
Оставайся здесь. - Stay here. Иди, кролик. - Go, rabbit. 짜증나. - How annoying.
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julietslament · 8 months ago
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The Butcher and The Rabbit Ch.2
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Stone Butch!Huntress x High Femme!Reader
Part 1
Summary: The wolf has taken you back to its nest. Tends your wounds and brings back unwanted feelings.
CW/Tags: The inherent homoeroticism of stitching up wounds. Internalized homophobia. Vaguely unwanted touching. Anna is kinda silly.
A/N: Zaya - Meaning little rabbit. A popular Russian term of endearment. Used for a spouse or lover.
The searing pain of your leg settles into a dull ache as you're carried through the pitch black wood. Head pounding with every step she takes. Your hands grip into her shirt, while you try to keep yourself conscious. With no light to guide you, it’s impossible to tell if your eyes are even open. There’s no path for this beast to follow as she stalks through the trees. Her steps are light, not even a leader out of place. The only sound she makes is singing that old lullaby. Something that once soothed you to sleep is now a haunting knell of uncertainty.
‘The gray wolf has come.’
Pain is all you can focus on. It’s what you have to focus on. The only thing that needs attention right now. How your bones ache, and the pull of your limbs as they grow heavy. Adrenaline flows out the tips of your fingers, leaving you as nothing more than a limp carcass hanging over this giant's shoulder. Just as the cold kiss of snowflakes hits your cheek her raspy voice reaches out.
“Almost home.” She reassures with a gentle pat on your bum. As if you were merely too drunk to make it home. Were you in your right mind you’d be humiliated. She talks to you so softly, like you're a child. What’s worse is that you feel like one. Pathetic and small. 
The sound of a door creaking open, and you can finally see. Nutty wood floors glow with firelight. The warmth of it hits you slowly, seeping through your skin to soothe your aching bones. With long strides, you're carried through a living room, up hand-carved stairs, and through the threshold of a door. Gently the stranger leans forward and you’re sat down on a plush bed of fur. Bouncing slightly atop the covering your hands grasp at the fur to steady yourself. 
Worrying the thick duvet in your hands you take in the room. Warm cedar walls adorned with bones. Antlers of hunts gone by proudly displayed over a fireplace. The crackling of flames settles your nerves. Slowly the world stops spinning as your headache dwindles.
 Towering over you the stranger tilts her head, studying you through the holes in her mask. Her eyes glowing in the low light of the fire and as your gaze finally lands on her a tension fills the air. It’s a suffocating apprehension, wrapping itself around your throat. She’s breathing heavily, harder than before. Her chest heaving up and down. Her hands twitching at her sides.
 ‘It was a long journey.’ You think and you're not a small woman. She must be tired. Although her gaze tells you something else. Staring down at you like a predator. Muscles taught and ready to spring at the twitch of your finger.
‘She’s going to eat me.’
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. The fur straining against your hand as you grip it tighter between your fingers, waiting. A doe frozen in the sights of a wolf, but before the pounce comes she pivots. Turning away towards a different door in the room. You can’t take your eyes off her, you shouldn’t. This is still a killer, after all. A strange hermit in the woods. The fact that she saved your life doesn’t change that. Who knows what she could do to you?  
Eyes trained on her, you try to peer into the room. Watching as she fades into the darkness, not bothering to make a light. Moving through the darkness as she did in the woods. Confident in every move she makes. Something wooden opens, shuts, and then she’s back in sight. Carrying a white tin in her hand.
Without a word, she kneels beside the bed and opens the box. Taking out bandages and tinctures to lay neatly beside you. Firelight glints off steel scissors, sending a shiver up your back. Shoulders tensing as she silently prepares her tools. Sewing needles, knives, and other things that slice through skin to bone. The silence is too much.
“Have you done this before?” You ask nervously. Eyeing her as she settles herself over your maimed foot. Taking the boot gently she begins unthreading the laces. It’s jarring how carelessly she touches you. How easy it is for her to move you as she needs. Sparring you a glance she smiles ever so slightly at your words.
“Have you?” She quips back. With the laces removed, she opens the leather mouth as wide as she can. Delicately she pries the boot off your foot, steadily revealing your wool sock. Once a bone white now dyed red with blood. Wincing you scrunch your nose at her. The disgust at seeing your own blood paired with your annoyance at her nonchalance.
“You're not going to saw my foot off are you?” You mutter back. Wincing you scrunch your nose at her. The disgust at seeing your own blood paired with your annoyance at her nonchalance. Though she only responds to your attitude with a humorous huff.
“The trap was small. Meant for a rabbit.” She laughs to herself. Her hand gently cradling your leg, raising it to settle on her knee. Shuffling your skirt higher up your leg in the process, the wool tickling your knee. 
Taking the sheers, she slices the fabric through. Then gently peels the wool from your bloodied flesh. Steady in her movements you're sure she’s had experience. Doesn’t even flinch at the grotesque way your torn skin clings to the wool. Lifting and stretching with it, slowly so as to not mangle the skin any further. Blood drips down to the floorboards now that the lacerations are exposed. Deep gashes tearing into the muscle. You cringe at the sight, unable to look away.
She must notice your brow pinche together. How your lip trembles at the sight of gore. Gaze softening ever so slightly she runs her hand along your leg. Rubbing her thumb just under the hem of your skirt. It’s meant to be comforting you know, but it only stresses you more. The callousness of her fingers set your skin ablaze. What shocks you the most is how warm she is.
“It’s not so bad. In time it will just be a scar.” She comforts. Moving her hand away from your skin, leaving a scorch mark in its wake.
She grabs a bottle of liquor laid out next to all the other tools. Twisting the lid, the acrid smell of it reaches your nose. The unmistakable burning of vodka. She says something again but her words fall on deaf ears. A sudden stinging surges up your flesh. Burning through your nerves as she carelessly pours the alcohol onto your skin, flushing out any disease that might cling on. You cry as she wraps a towel around your ankle. The pressure doing nothing to stop your hyperventilating.
“Breath, you're alright.” Her gentle tone pierces through the pain. “Just a little longer.” Her pale eyes never leave yours as she holds the cloth tight to your skin. Talking you through the pain. 
“You’re doing so well.” She praises, watching your face bloom red. The pain is dull compared to the gentle way she looks up at you. With final praise, she takes the towel away. Revealing the cuts in your skin. It’s not so gruesome now that the dried blood is cleared.
“I’m not a child.” The words sound petulant even to you. Wiping the tears away you turn, staring into the fireplace. Out of the corners of your vision, you catch her grabbing the needle and thread. 
“No...But you certainly cry like one.” Her heady tone does not go unnoticed.
“Oh please.” Huffing you lean back on your arms, trying to make more space between you. Your knuckles must be white with how tight your grasp at the bedding beneath you. Twisting it in anticipation for what’s to come and glaring at the fireplace. Not allowing her to see the incensed frown on your face but still from below you can hear her snicker at you.
“This is going to hurt, cry all you need but stay still.” She warns, threading her needle. You turn back to see her holding the bottle towards you and without a thought you take it. The liquid burns your throat, distracting you from the way your insides flutter as your fingers brush against hers.
Tense silence settles over the room. You continue to drink through the first passes of the needle as it glides through the skin. The wound is still raw and each pass of the needle is a reminder of the metal jaws that did this to you. Of the excruciating explosion of. A flash of red that dulled soon after. This, however, was torturous, an unwavering pain with no end in sight. Nursing the bottle in hand, your eyes grow blurry as you attempt to hold back tears.
Instead, you try to find something else to focus on. A fixed point to occupy your mind. Looking down at her, you watch. Mind numb with spirits you fixate on the way her arms flex as she works. The light of the fire extenuating the veins snaking just beneath her skin. Moving in tandem with the way she painstakingly tends to you.
‘Sew.tie.cut.
‘Sew.tie.cut.’
‘Needle. Thread. Scissors.’
  She’s doing it on purpose you're sure. Flexing just so. Tensing her shoulders in a way that boils your blood. Showing off with the sole intent to turn your gaze. It’s distressing that someone could be so shameless. What’s even worse is that it's working. The pain of the needle dulls in comparison to the growing itch inside of you. The aching needs that you force down. Down, down, down. Deep beneath the surface but it bubbles up. Always trying to claw its way out of your skin. Your face contorts in frustration.
‘Too much to drink. That’s all.’
The thought passes and leaves as you bring the bottle up to your lips. Stoking the embers of impulsivity. Settling further into the plush mattress you absentmindedly spread your thighs further apart. You take no notice of your relaxed posture. Of the way your skirt sprawls with your legs or at least you don’t let yourself notice. No, the buzzing of your head stops that, but the predator beneath you is painfully alert. She sees every twitch of your fingers. The flush of your cheeks as you leer at her, completely unaware of yourself. Once again her gaze drifts to the jawbone dangling at your clavicle. 
“Don’t pout. Tell me, where did you get that?” She shifts from looking at you to back to her work.
“Huh?”  Your gaze snaps to hers. The sudden question pulls you from your reveries. Sheepishly set the bottle down. Trying to conceal it as if you’ve been caught.
“Your necklace. Where did you get it.” She clarifies, still absentmindedly stitching away. Needle. Thread. Scissors.
“Oh..my necklace.” Compulsively you grasp at the bone, rubbing your thumb along the indents of its teeth, dull from years of worrying it down. Holding it tight you think of how to answer her. What could you say? What is there to say at all? There are no words. Nothing meaningful enough to express everything this trinket holds dear. Patiently she waits, expecting something.
“A friend made it for me.” The words are nothing more than a whisper as fresh tears swell up. You can’t stand it. The guilt stabs through your heart. It won’t leave you even with another sip of the bottle. There’s silence that follows your statement and it is unbearable. It drapes the room in a cruel judgment. You try to focus on her hands again. Lip wobbling and eyes Squinting as the thread glides through your skin. Needle. Thread. Scissors. Blood coats the thick black string with each pass-through.
  ‘There was so much blood.’
“A friend?” She finishes the final stitch. Leaning down she takes the string in her mouth, cutting it with her teeth. Lips brushing against the skin. When she pulls back there’s blood smeared on her lips, gaze locked on yours all the while. 
“We were girls together… we…she..” You speak impulsively. Needing to bite your lip to control yourself. Unsure of what might tumble out next. The jawbone continues to dig into your palm. Feelings you haven’t touched in years bubble just beneath your skin. Twisting that knife inside of you.
She stares at you, mouth turned downwards in a frown. Pitying you from her spot on the floor. Yet it’s lost on you as you stare right through her. Buried memories swirling through your brain.Remember.That terrible voice rings like a bell in the back of your mind. You shouldn’t have drank so much, or maybe you should drink more.
‘It should have been you.’ 
You hardly feel the wrapping of a bandage around your stitches. Unable to pull yourself away from lamenting your past. Pulling the fabric taught she moves to caress your skin once again. Rough hands try to comfort you once again while she struggles for her own words. Her mask does not do much to hide the way she pities you. How her eyes crease with a sullen air, head tilting to the side. As if you’re some sad creature needing to be coddled. Wrapped up in her toned arms, nestled into her chest. You take another drink.
“You’re still wearing it.” She sounds surprised. Her words under her breath, not meant for you to hear.
“Of course I am.”  You’re almost offended. Why wouldn’t you still be wearing it? A part of you believed it wouldn’t come off if you tried. Brows furrowed, you watch as she rises from the floor. Touch lingering as she stretches to full height. 
“You will sleep here.” A soft spoken order. One that you have no objection to. Your head is spinning again. Fresh tears stain your cheeks as you sit leisurely on the bed, watching her clean up the bloody mess you left. Scarlet rags are shoved thoughtlessly back into the white tin. Bloody needle and silver scissors tucked into a bed of cotton roses. Then another sip from the bottle until her hand engulfs yours, stopping the glass from reaching your lips.
“You’ve had enough.” She scolds you and you're in just the right place to get mad.
“Don’t speak like you know me.” You look up at her creased in frustration. Not relinquishing your hold on the bottle. Instead pulling it closer, and in turn her. “Who even are you?”
“Who am I?” She asks sardonically. A threatening timber echoes off the walls. Her hand darts up, squeezing your cheeks. Digging her fingers into your flesh. While your grip on the bottle is rigid, hers is ironclad. Forcing you to crane your neck upwards. Her canines glint in the light as she sneers down at you.
“I am the Frost King.” She tilts your head, examining your reaction. Reveling in the way your face twists in fear. “Aren’t you warm, maiden?”
“The frost king?” You echo. A tale as old as the woods outside.
 ‘What is she saying? Is she making fun of me?’ 
Confusion fills your head as you try to understand but she doesn’t give you the time. Her grip from as she leans over you. Pushing you back into the bed. Her thighs sliding under yours as she makes room for herself, settling in between them. The fabric of your skirt bunches up against the coarse cloth of her pants. Leaving your bare legs hanging off her hips.
“My poor Zaya. Always so lost.” Her thumb brushes against your cheek. Wiping away your tears.
“What?” That name. Eyes widened with fear you try to claw at her arms, desperate to get her off. No one’s called you that since you were a child.
“Don’t call me that.” Your words are strained against her palm. Unable to speak properly as she keeps her steady grip on your face. With teeth bared in false intimidation, you try to squirm away from her. Twisting your hips against her, something that only has her pressing against you harder.
“Why not? It suits you so well.” She pushes your head deeper into the fur, your hair splayed out underneath you. 
“I remember you used to like it.” She’s whispering as a lover would, there’s a pleading in her voice. Desperate for you to understand, her grip on your face softens. 
“Remember…?” You repeat. Staring up at her just as desperate to understand, but you can’t. You don’t want to. 
Lips tremble as her fingers leave your face, tracing down the curve of your neck and your arm. She takes your wrists in her hand. Then guides you up towards her mask. Electricity shoots through your nerves as the wood meets the tip of your fingers.
“You know me.” She insists, eyes searching yours for recognition.
 The room stills as you take the mask in your hands. Everything falls into the aether. Only your breathing in tandem with hers disturbs the air. The two of you buzzing in anticipation. Tentatively you lift the mask. Slowly. So slowly. Afraid of what you’ll see. Of what lurks beneath the carved wood. A choked sob leaves your lips. You don’t think you’ve cried as much since that day.
“Anna?” The name is raw in your mouth. The scar on her lip cuts up her cheek, digging into the skin before it splinters across her face. Jagged lines reaching towards her ear, slicing a crescent around her eye. Her eyes. They’re sharper, focused but there’s no denying that they are hers. The same light gaze mirroring yours. Tears of her swelling in the corners but they don’t fall. Your fingers trace along her features. Taking in the roughness that she has grown into. 
She says your name. Softly. A wave of emotion crashes through her as she leans down, pressing her forehead against yours. Her hands holding yours in place, relishing in your touch.  Her breath warm on your cheeks and the memories that you’ve locked away burst forward. Hazy images of climbing trees and swimming in the river. Of kisses stolen in the rain. Blood on the snow. Gunpowder filling your senses. You’re finger holds her tighter, not ready for her fade away. Convinced that this specter will rip itself away from you once again. Her hands hold you tighter in kind.
“I’m here.” She reassures. Leaning down to rest her head in the crook of your neck. Her arms snake around your waist to hold you tighter. Curling into like a long lost pet.
“How?” You wrap your arms around her in turn. Grasping onto her shirt too tightly while you stare up at the ceiling. You press your cheek against her hair, taking in the scent of pine. She shakes her head at your question. Shushing you quietly before offering a soothing kiss at the pulse point of your neck. 
“It does not matter. You’ve come back to me.”
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soapyghostie · 5 months ago
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fave found family headcanons for dbd killers? (personally I love Danny and Amanda as besties and Anna and Evan as adoptive parents to the Legion)
Idk. I felt like doing a request. I know. It's been awhile since I posted any writing. I just haven't had the time or the motivation. I've been really going through it the past few months. I have no clue when I'll get out with another one so please enjoy this freshly, newly made content.
Note: I didn't write for all the killers because there is so many of them and this took forever to write.
DBD Killers
Evan has been in the Entity’s realm the longest out of all the killers so he’s the most experienced. He’s rough around the edges, but he definitely has a soft spot for some of the younger killers. He subconsciously took on the role as a designated father figure to pretty much all of the killers. He’s always making sure that no one does anything stupid. You could picture him being that dad that checks up on their kids, but scolds them while doing so. Julie and Frank think he’s being a hardass, but Susie and Joey know that deep down, he cares. He makes sure that everyone eats and is taking care of themselves. 
Philip is never the one to say much. However, everyone knows that if you're struggling with something or having a bad day, he’ll sit next to you silently until you feel better. He has a soft spot for those who were manipulated and abused and always makes sure that they are valued. He and Rin often hang out together. They like to get away from all the chaos and go to a quiet spot to recharge after trials. 
Despite his fearsome appearance, Max is incredibly gentle with those he considers family. Anna treats him like a younger brother and he follows her around like a loyal puppy. He loves music. Susie often invites him to dance with her and they always have a good time dancing together. He doesn’t talk, but everyone knows he’s there if they need a comforting presence.
Sally is the overprotective mom of the group. She checks on everyone constantly. She also makes sure that the more reckless killers, like Danny and Frank, are staying out of trouble. She has had to drag Danny and Frank by their ears a few times because they were causing too much commotion. 
Michael doesn’t outwardly engage, but he’s always there. He’s like most brothers. You don’t think he cares, but he does. If you mess with his people, he pops up when you least expect it. He does keep an eye on the more vulnerable killers. While most of the killers assume that he doesn’t care, Rin and Philip know he listens to everything and step in when it matters.
Lisa is like the eerie aunt who speaks in riddles but somehow always gives the best advice. She watches over everyone from the shadows and only appears when needed. If someone is struggling, she’ll leave protective symbols around them. Survivors have noticed that the Legion, Rin, and Sally all seem to have her markings more in their realms than others. It’s almost as if Lisa is silently guarding them…
Herman thinks he’s the intellectual leader of the group and enjoys psychoanalyzing everyone. He’s absolutely that uncle who gives you questionable advice but acts like he’s right. Surprisingly, Ji-Woon enjoys talking to him about human psychology, and Frank enjoys his complete disregard for morality. Evan, however, is constantly telling him to shut up. 
Anna fully embraces her role as the Legion’s adoptive mother (She mothers other killers too. I promise. Just mostly the Legion since they are like wild animals). She treats Susie and Joey like her own kids, scolds Frank a lot, and makes sure Julie isn’t pushing herself too hard. She’s also fiercely protective of Charlotte and Rin, seeing a bit of herself in them. If anyone threatens her family, she will not hold back. 
Bubba just wants to be loved, and he sees the killers as his second family. He’s especially close with Max and Charlotte since they understand what it’s like to be outcasts. He and Anna get along surprisingly well, bonding over their love for family. Will offer food (or questionably edible things) to anyone he considers a friend.
Nobody likes Freddy, but he’s the distant relative you can’t get rid of. He constantly teases people, especially Danny and Ji-Woon, and enjoys stirring up drama. The only reason he hasn’t been banned is because he keeps the entity entertained. 
Amanda acts like she doesn’t care, but she’ll absolutely throw hands for her found family. She and Danny are best friends. They constantly cause mischief together. She also has a soft spot for Julie and teaches her knife tricks. Despite her tough demeanor, she genuinely wants the younger killers to survive and be better than she was. 
Nobody really wants to be around Jeffery, but he sticks around anyways. Frank thinks he’s funny, and Danny sometimes listens to his awful life advice for laughs. Evan, Anna, and Sally keep him away from the younger killers as much as possible. 
Rin has trouble trusting others, but she bonds a little more easily with those that can relate to her. She sees Sally as a mentor and gets along with Lisa through their shared connection with the supernatural. She also has a sibling-like bond with Charlotte and Phillip. They understand her and her forced situation to serve the entity as a killer. 
The Legion are the chaotic but lovable younger siblings of the found family. Frank acts like he doesn’t need anyone but secretly enjoys the structure that Anna and Evan provide. Julie is the responsible ‘older sibling’ who looks up to Amanda. Susie sees Bubba and Max as big brothers. Joey follows Danny around like an annoying little brother. 
Adiris acts as a spiritual guardian to those who feel lost. She sees Lisa as an equal. She often offers Rin wisdom on how to deal with her pain, helping her find healthy ways to cope with it. She takes pity on Evan and Sally for what the entity did to them. She believes they were cursed by fate. 
Danny thrives on chaos but is surprisingly loyal. He and Amanda are a troublemaking duo, often pulling pranks or sneaking around. Michael is his idol. He often fangirls and pesters him, annoying Michael a lot. Surprisingly, Danny hasn’t been yeeted to another dimension yet. While he’s not super emotional, he secretly enjoys being part of the weird, dysfunctional killer family. 
Nobody agrees on how to treat Demo, but it’s basically the family pet. Bubba tries to feed it, Susie wants to cuddle it, and Evan begrudgingly accepts its presence. 
Kazan refuses to acknowledge any sort of familial bond outright, but he keeps a close eye on Rin from the shadows. He often leaves behind old weapons, armor, or cryptic advice for her, never admitting they’re from him. If anyone disrespects the Yamaoka name or threatens Rin, he will personally make them regret it. 
Caleb doesn’t like unnecessary chatter, but if he sees someone struggling with weapons or traps, he’ll step in and help. He mentors Max often, teaching him how to repair and customize his chainsaw. Despite his gruff demeanor, he has a soft spot for Charlotte. She reminds him of himself and all the hardships he faced growing up. 
Charlotte finds comfort in Anna’s motherly presence and has truly felt safe for the first time since she lost her mother. Victor is protective of Susie and often perches on her shoulder like a tiny, growling guard dog. Charlotte is hesitant with trusting someone, but when she does, she is incredibly loyal. She often stands near Evan and Anna in intense situations, knowing they’ll protect her and Victor. 
Ji-Woon sees himself as the ‘cool’ older brother who is always trying to impress the younger killers with his charisma and skills. He thrives on admiration but secretly enjoys the chaotic yet familial dynamic of the group, even if he won’t admit it. While he pretends to be indifferent, if someone ever insulted or threatened a ‘little sibling’ of his, he’d handle it with an unsettling calm, deadly efficiency.
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unnerving-presence · 2 years ago
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Hi, i just read the coochie unhooking and im in love omg 🥲💕 could we have another part with the huntress, pyra and a third one of your choice? Thank you, you're the best 👀💕
GAGAGAGGH YESSSS I LOVE THESE 😭 TARHOS HAS BEEN INFESTING MY BRAIN SO HE WILL BE THE LUCKY THIRD !!
ooc shit incoming this is literally abt them loving them thighs i do not gaf i tried to make them in character somewhat anyways hehe
could you tell i’m utterly obsessed w tarhos right now i wished i could’ve written more dear lord
i had already written this for huntress initially but i did want to revise it a bit to be more in character. still sort of experimenting with it all. enjoy though :)
♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
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Anna:
Straight confusion and a.. little bit of panic? She’s never had her prey attempt something like what you did. It catches her so off guard she practically thrashes around as much as you do to get you off of her. She doesn’t like feeling so vulnerable and very much does not appreciate it when you manage to escape the hook and her alike. She can’t shake that ghostly feeling of your thighs around her. It’s like you’re still there. She can’t discern whether she likes the feeling or not.
You’re interesting prey, prey that she enjoys hunting. She mostly does it for necessity and to please the Entity, but she likes you. She likes that. She especially likes your drive to survive. It amuses her, makes her curious about you. Anna would be angry about the ordeal thinking about it, but it simply makes her intrigued now. She simply can’t brush aside the concept of your thighs around her. It was like a warm embrace she hadn’t felt since she was a child. She likes it.
She decides she will observe you more. Watch as you speak in a language she doesn’t understand and interact with those she sees as nothing more than human animals. You’re afraid, but you’re also determined. It’s cute. Perhaps she’ll conveniently place herself near the hook she puts you on next time, just to feel you fight to survive, just to feel those thighs around her again.
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Pyramid Head:
Pyramid Head would have absolutely never expected this to happen.. ever? Considering his absolute fridge of a head he’s.. startled to say the least that you managed to both effectively wrap your thighs around him AND have enough leg strength to take him down AND unhook yourself. It doesn’t all come to mind at first but he’s definitely a bit aroused. Unfortunately, that is an emotion that fades quite quickly. He has a job to do, he would very much like to get back to that. If he could get back up from the ground from his big ass helmet holding him down 😭
Pyramid Head is simply indifferent about the situation. A tiny bit excited at the though, but would quickly move on. It would certainly stay in his mind if you had done it several times over though. Some part of him is glad he has this unbearable helmet over his head, he might have had a full system shutdown had your thighs gotten too close to his face, though your thighs being around him in the first place is more than enough to turn him on a bit, not that he acts on it of course. He prioritizes his role in this realm more than anything else.
Though he won’t pass up the opportunity to listen to your cries of pain if given the chance. They didn’t mean much to him before. But now he rather likes the sound. He’d even say he rather likes you more than anything else. Maybe he should stick extra close to you from now on. Perhaps you’ll try other suggestive methods of trying to escape him. Either way, it feeds into his desire to punish and his desire for you.
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Tarhos Kovács:
Tarhos is trained for moments like this, when the enemy has the upper hand. He cut through hundreds of swordsmen far more experienced than you could ever wish to be. He wields his imposing claymore and knows he strikes fear into those that dare cross him. He is anything but one to be so easily defeated. It should’ve been impossible for him to be taken down by someone in such a pathetic position as yourself. It has to be the Entity’s assistance. It has to be. He can barely get himself together again before you dash up the stairs and out of his reach. He grumbles and pushes himself up off the ground, more determined than ever to put you in your place.
You don’t survive the trial, but it’s very clear you did something to him. He’s angry, but there’s some other emotion, like a smoldering fire that was once not even worth a passing glance had suddenly burst into a wildfire. It could be confused with bloodlust. He can barely tell the difference between the two until he sees you again by the campfire next to those worthless maggots. He watches only for a moment and in that moment he wants more. He wants more of whatever you did to him.
He will never come to terms with these feelings. He believes it’s your fault. Your existence shouldn’t even be welcomed in this place. You can so easily disrupt the balance of death, sacrifice, bloodshed. He wants nothing to do with you if you think you can deter him from his rightful privilege of endlessly butchering such peasants as yourself. He hates you more than he hates Vittorio, he thinks. Vittorio was an imbecile who thought he had the answers to peace. But you? God, you actually do something to him and you don’t even have to try.
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fishyvamp · 7 months ago
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I don't usually do WLW content, as I don't feel qualified to write it but I have thoughts about Fae!Huntress. She is an old god, long forgotten but still powerful. If you find yourself deep in the woods you may even hear her sing. The lullaby calling out, but if see a bunny in the wood and the song is clear as day, do not run, do not scream, for it is too late, but if you do she is already expecting the thrill of the chase.
You however are injured running from something else, body aching blood oozing from injuries far too big. The fact that you are able to stand is some miracle. You find a small abandoned cabin the wood looking rotten as ivy covers it's walls. It's a place to hide at least you find yourself stumbling to the door pushing past into a home that smells of spices, herbs, and cooked meat. It's well decorated, clean, and far too large to fit what you had seen outside. animal heads mounted on the walls of creatures you have never even heard of outside of fairy tales with fur rugs from animals that had to have been larger then any creature on earth. The fur impossibly soft as you collapse on to it. You feel so small on it nuzzling into the pelt. You could feel the edges of unconsciousness clawing at your brain.
You think there are worse places to die, but as you think the dark will claim you, you see a bowl of beef stew inches from your face. You don't remember that being there, but you're hungry and don't remember the last thing you ate. You take your first bite practically moaning, eyes closed as the spices dance on your pallet and the warmth slides down your throat warming your chest. You almost spill the stew when you finally open your eyes to see a large rabbit like woman looming over you her head cocked to the side as she leans in. "Little cub where did you come from?" She asks invading your space. You can feel something in your chest, something sharp and demanding. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes. Fae!Huntress settles back down stroking your hair letting the locks slip through he fingers when she finally speaks again, "go ahead darling, finish what you started, than I'll patch you up."
Out of the frying and straight to the fire. Who had you before would've surely been a better choice then the bunny beast in front of you cooing about how soft and perfect you are for what she needs. He soft white ears twitching with every bite you eat.
Masterlist
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fandom-go-round · 2 years ago
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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.
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your-goth-sis · 2 years ago
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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
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gothy-froggy · 2 years ago
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could you write smt for huntress, kate, yui and feng min like the one you made for the knight about ass, tits or thighs? it can just be yui and anna if you think it's too much!
Oh my god. Yes.
(So sorry that this is long overdue my life is always messy)
Anna (Huntress)
Thighs. Anna like thighs.
Because Anna has spent so much time by herself after her mother’s death, being attracted to any isn’t something she thinks about.
It would take her a bit to notice that she likes thighs. Probably while she was force to lay her head on her lover’s lap. And staring at them.
Anna now finding out her interest, she doesn’t show it off or hide it. She’ll probably stand in the doorway like a cat demanding for pets. They bring her comfort.
They call feel nice around her face-
Feng Min
Tits & thighs
Feng was the type who would joke about liking tits but it was actually true. Now she isn’t obsessed with them, they just feel nice in her hands…and face. But she isn’t obsessed!
A nice top or dress that shows off those lovely sister pair will definitely make her steal a few glances. She’ll definitely deny looking and make up small excuses.
“There was a bug!”
“I was just dozing off!” Yeah, trust me we know Feng.
Now she won’t say no to thighs. No way. Literally suffocate her in them. That’s the only cause of death she’s fine with in this realm. She loves grabbing the inner thighs and just squishing them around.
Yui
Ass & thighs
Yui is a strong and an independent woman. She loves a nice healthy butt and strong thighs. Not even in a sexual way. I feel like Yui likes the way they look just the way they are. Just nicely curved and the fleshy bits. She definitely gives a nice ass a nice slap.
Yui finds thighs a nice place it bite and leaves marks. Unlike Feng, she tends to put them into use, marking up a art piece for her to admire.
She also likes a fair pair of hands. Especially if someone can use them well 👀
Kate
Ass
Kate is a gal that cares about personality more….but a big butt will get her full attention. She tries to be sneaky about it, but sometimes messes up. Kate just shakes her head and say she wasn’t staring when she gets caught.
Kate isn’t one to take action unless she has permission or it’s in the right setting to do something. In a private area, she’ll give an ass a little slap, but she doesn’t show that side of her often in punishing.
If a nice ass is offered to her…how could she say no?
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writer-freak · 2 years ago
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Affection | Dead by daylight | GN reader
Characters: Anna/Huntress, Julie/Legion and Adiris/The Plague
Warnings: None really, just lots of fluff, Gn reader, really short,
A/n: I'm now posting some old Dbd drafts for October that I just never completely finished I wrote this a year ago and planned to add more characters but never did so now this is really just short, sweet, and simple I hope you guys enjoy
Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more 🖤
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Anna/The Huntress
She is initially distant and wary, her isolated upbringing in the woods has made her cautious around others.
She definitely starts to soften up the more you treat her softly she will slowly start to develop a soft spot for you
Then really it's just a matter of time to get closer to her because when she starts to really like you there will be lots of affection
At the start she may initiate physical contact by reaching out to hold your hand or shoulder, to silently show you how much she actually likes you
Though she sometimes may underestimate her strength so just be aware of that
Julie/The Legion
Julie is used to just trusting and being around the other Legion members so I don't think she would trust anyone 
She's initially standoffish but could be intrigued by bold moves that you may make during the trial
Possibly you start hanging out a bit outside of the trials and you guys start to get closer
She might start by playfully shoving you or stealing your items, testing boundaries and just enjoying teasing you
Over time, she may let you into her inner circle, sharing secrets about her life outside the Entity Realm
Physical affection might begin with casual hugs or leaning on your shoulder after a particularly tough trial
Adiris/The Plague
She always has her time before the entity real on her mind the memories of life as a priestess
She is initially probably more guarded just keeping to herself and having guilt for her people on her mind 
You can get her trust by offering kindness and understanding, maybe even helping her during trials
She might start showing signs of warmth by sharing stories from her past or teaching you about her rituals and traditions.
As she begins to trust you more, she might accept your assistance in cleaning her corrupted body.
Physical affection will probably be very rare even if you are allowed to help her with cleaning herself it's going to be a special occasion
She is just not comfortable with anyone touching her, being scared that she could infect you
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Thanks for reading and much love to you all <3
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morwap · 2 years ago
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𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒
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nav | m.list | m.list 2 | send a request!
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♡ - smut REQUESTED BLURBS•DIALOGUE!
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➸ nothing written for anna yet! but i’m working on it check blurbs there might be something written or send a request!
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julietslament · 8 months ago
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The Butcher and The Rabbit Ch. 1
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Stone Butch!Huntress x High Femme!Reader
Summery: You lived exactly as you were supposed to. You said your prayers by night. Married the correct man and filled your time as a homemaker. Everything as you were told, yet none of it could prevent the war reaching your doorstep. Forcing you to flee your constructed reality. Straight into the past you left to rot in the woods.
Content Tags/Warnings: DEAD DOVE, Allusions to SA, Slight Gore, Captor/Captive, Eventual Smut, Dubcon, Horror Themes, Childhood Friends to Strangers to lovers
A/N: This will be a very self-indulgent Dark Fic. I will add to the tags as they come.
The sun falls like a guillotine. Its last vestiges of light illuminating your path as you slink through the wood. Pine needles fall onto your shoulders as you push branches out of your way. The red forest was dense, a horrid maw—your only salvation.
Your footfalls are tentative and unsteady. In your haste to escape you had shoved on your husband's hunting boots. The laces are still undone, and the soles twice your size. Paired with the fact you weren’t even a runner on your best day these boots were life threatening. If you were thinking clearer perhaps you would take them off. Endure the forest floor with your bare feet, but the light dust of snow had you far too worried about frostbite. As if you would survive that long.
In the distance, the boisterous sounds of soldiers echoed through the trees. Hounds on a fox trail. Barking for the thrill of the chase. 
Yet you would not be barreling through the trees like a spooked deer; you had to be clever. You knew these woods better than them. You knew they were strangers, and the forest would treat them as such, but would it be kind to you? 
The canopy above darkens. The last rays of the sun fade behind you. As you struggle to make out the overgrown path in front of you the sounds of men grow closer. Too close.
How? Were your tracks so easy to follow? Had the forest forsaken you? Gripping at the jagged bone hanging from your necklace, you prayed under your breath pleas that you would live. Words of worship falling do the dirt beneath your boots. 
Moving along branches dig into the fabric of your sleeves. The foliage grows thicker. Holding your skirt aloft could not even save it from the grasping branches. Bark-laden fingers trying to drag you back. Pulling you away from the path. Perhaps you should listen, but how could you? The only thing your mind could focus on were all the things that could happen to you if you were caught.
Dogs will hunt. 
Until the rabbit hangs limp from its jaws.
Are the trees getting closer together? Unable to stay low to the ground, the bush too thick, you were forced onto your feet. Looking around it was dark. Too dark, you could barely make out your hands in front of you. Your chest rises and falls as you try to get your bearings. Your body twisting this way and that, not even the moon could pierce the branches above you. Was the moon even out tonight? Were there ever stars in the sky?
An inexplicable terror fills your bones. The darkness is suffocating. Standing still as thoughts begin to swirl around in your head. In your head? Or were the trees whispering to you? 
‘Where are you going?’
‘Are they close?’
‘They have to be.’
‘you can hear them.’
‘I can hear them.’
‘You can hear them’
‘I can hear them right behind me.’
A hot huff of air blows a strand of hair into your face. Your body goes rigid, sweat beading down the back of your neck. As you listen. The sound of air huffing. In then out. Breathing? No. It was smelling you, inhaling your scent. An animal?
Out of the corner of your vision, you see a light, a lantern dancing around the trees. Without a thought you dart towards it, possessed by your fear. You barrel towards the beacon too afraid of the beast behind you to think of the dangers in front of you.
You can’t hear anything over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears but you know you're being chased. You can feel it. The aura of a predator. Reaching its claws towards your back. The lantern gets closer. Hope fills your chest. You can make it! You're gonna make it.
As you reach the ring of light, its glow warming your face, a gunshot rings out. Sliding to the floor you duck. Then it’s only a second before you discover your mistake. In front of you, with a lantern in his hand, stands a man dressed in uniform. His pistol raised right where you had been standing. It seems the rabbit has run straight into the jaws of the hound. You don’t stay a second longer as he yells over his shoulder, no doubt alerting his comrades that the hunt has ended.
Pushing yourself up to your feet you stumble forward. Once again sprinting into the unknown. Relying only on the adrenaline pumping through your muscles you barrel through branches. This time you can hear the footsteps rushing behind you. The light of their lantern is close enough to see in front of you.
Another shot and the bark of a tree explodes next to your head. Forcing you to pivot. A hard left that sends you straight into a thicket, thorns dig into your skin. Ripping at your clothes but you can’t stop. Tearing yourself through the clawing branches, the sounds of fabric ripping mix with the laughter of your pursuers. Finally, you feel your hand hit bare dirt. Digging your nails into the earth you clamber forward.
There’s no path ahead anymore but that doesn’t matter. 
‘Need to get away.’
‘Need to run.’ 
Fear pushes you further. Your limbs grow numb, your breathing impossible to control but weakly you persist. Until you feel the trees open up. This is it. The forest is giving you a way forward.
One step, and you're straight back into the ground. Head slamming flat into the dirt and before you can even think a scream tears through your throat. Pain flares through your ankle, burning up your leg. 
Twisting around you try to make sense of the sudden, searing pain in your ankle. However, the darkness doesn’t even allow you to see your oose and tugging your leg back only makes you cry harder. Fat tears of despair fall down your plump cheeks. Reaching down you feel for any blood but your fingers meet the cold texture of steel. Digging its jaws deep into the soft leather of the boot, puncturing your flesh.
‘This is it. You're caught.’
‘They’re going to kill you.’
‘They’re going to do worse than that.’
The voices chase you still. Furling the fear that grips your being. The steady thrum of dread that shields you from the pain. 
Soft light begins to glow onto your pathetic figure. What a sight you must be. Covered in dirt. Bloodstained and unable to stop your desperate sobs. Shaking like a newborn lamb.
Light fills your vision. What should be a guiding star is now the beacon of your execution. 
The hounds have finally reached you. Just as they always would. Just as they always had. 
Three of them, dressed in army fatigues,  burst out of the trees. Boxing you in. Only one of them held his gun aloft, pointing his pistol straight to your head. He stood in the center, the other two had weapons of their own. One a rifle hanging idly in his grasp. The third, holding a lantern of his own, gripped a knife in his fist. Each of them leering down at the prey in their grasp.
As your eyes darted between them they began speaking in a language foreign to you. Not speaking to you of course but with each other. Discussing something. Their body language was so casual it left your hair on end. The words didn't make sense, but they didn't need to. What else could they be talking about?? What other reason could they have to chase you so far? Your death would not be a swift one.
Leisurely the one with the knife begins sauntering towards you. Then something snaps in your brain. You scream again. Now in a fury as if that’s going to deter him.  Spitting and hissing as a final act of self preservation. The man’s smile only widens. Cooing words at you as his leather-gloved hands reach towards you. Hands that would never touch you. 
In a blink, you watch as a hatchet buries itself into the side of his cap. His wide eyes locked on yours still as he stumbled to the side. Gasping for words before falling to the ground. You can’t tear your gaze away. You stare as his hands still twitch. His lantern still clutched tightly in his grasp.
The soldiers behind the now corpse start yelling into the trees. Both now with guns at the ready, aimlessly pointing them into the shadows. You turn your head left. Then right, trying to get a glimpse of this new danger. Peering into the bush the lantern light just barely touches a few feet beside you.
An eerie silence descends on the red forest. Not even the sound of the wind through the trees to calm your nerves. 
One of the soldiers creeps forward, shining his lantern deeper in. The light swallowed by the pitch black. He speaks in commands, you think as if ordering the shadows around him to surrender.
In front of you soldier with the rifle stands frozen, his grip on his gun too tight. You can see him trembling. He takes one step back then a great hand reaches out of the darkness. Gripping him by the hair and dragging him backwards. A scream pierces the air, the sounds of struggling. Then something that sounds of wet branches snapping.
To your left, you can hear the last soldier standing scream out, before shooting wildly into the bush. Releasing as many bullets as he can, the shots pounding through your skull until all you hear is clicking. You don’t look as the soldier desperately fumbles to reload. No, you can’t look away from the darkness in front of you. You shouldn’t. 
‘Watch. Witness.’
Stalking into the light you see the face of a rabbit. A wooden mask splattered with blood affixed to the face of a hulking body. Towering over the scene. Muscles taut as they reveal themselves. The sleeves of their tattered shirt rolled up to the elbow, exposing the blood trailing up their forearm. A large wood cutting ax is held firmly in their hands, but the only thing you could focus on is its eyes. A pale blue that brings back memories of when you were a child. Of stories, your father would tell you. Of bodarks roaming the wood. Of the stryga that huntsmen
Lost in your admiration you flinch as the creature from the wood lunges forward. In two swift strides, it has him by the neck. The wood cutter's ax sunk deep into the muscle of his shoulder, as though it were only butter. He barely has time to scream before he’s thrown to the ground. The thing presses a bandaged foot down onto his chest, pinning him to the earth. A predator hovering over its prey. With his body pressed down the ax is yanked from his skin. The masked figure raises the weapon above their head and you suddenly realize it’s a woman. The ax swings down, cleaving his face in two. 
You can’t bear to look anymore. Can’t bring yourself to open your eyes or even will your limbs to stop shaking. Your hand goes to your necklace. Trying to seek any form of comfort in your last moments. It goes quiet again, and you wait for the ax.
You feel something. Cold fingers brush softly against your calf. A sharp yelp escapes your throat. A knee-jerk reaction as you open your eyes and come face to face with the bloody rabbit mask. She’s crouched down next to your trembling body, you hadn’t even heard her get closer. She doesn’t acknowledge your scream, merely inspects the trap still locked onto your ankle. With her so close now you can make out the features of her face. 
The mask covers all but her lips and jawline. Scars travel from beneath the bloody wood, marring her pale skin. One cuts straight through her top lip, pulling it up just enough for her canine to peak out. Your gaze drifts downwards, following the contours of her neck. More scars. All the way to where her broad shoulders are hidden beneath the ragged cotton of her shirt. Her clothes seem worn. They look like things men in the village would wear.
As you drift slowly back up to her face, pale blue eyes stare back at you, fixated on your features. Her head cocked to the side. As if she’s trying to figure something out. 
A hum fills the silence. A lullaby. One that you’ve heard thousands of times as a child. She’s singing a lullaby under her breath. You're not sure how to react. Something about this fills you with a sense of peace. Some nostalgic feeling, from winter's past.
A dirt-covered hand reaches towards you. Moving the hair from your face. Gently, her fingers trace along the contours of your cheek. Mapping out your features. Delicately she trails a line down your neck, following the cord of your necklace. Towards your panting of your breast. Stopping at the small animal jaw dangling from your neck. Fingering the edges of its teeth. 
She’s leaning over you now. Staring intently at the worn bone. Her steady breath fanning against your cheeks. She shifts and you feel her other hand brushes against your waist. At the sound of you gasp. As if you’ve burned her. 
The lullaby cuts off, and for a moment you just stare at each other. Before her gaze darts to the ground and she seems almost… bashful, you think. Slowly your mind begins to come back to you. Thoughts racing as to what you should do. She wasn’t threatening you, in fact, she had saved you. Hope fills your chest once again. 
Sparing a glance at the mutilated face of the fallen soldier behind her you hold onto that thought. Sitting up a little straighter you lean closer to her, tilting your head to meet her gaze.
“Help me, please.” Your voice is hoarse. Hardly able to speak above a whisper. 
She looks at you. Startled. Like she was amazed that you could speak. She stares for a moment, long enough for you to worry about her intentions. That perhaps you were mistaken. That maybe you would meet the same fate as those men but she turns to look at the trap still clinging to your boot. 
With a practiced hand, she presses down on the metal. A click and the jaws are released.
Relief floods your lungs as you're able to pull your leg back. The pain lingers but something stops it from fully reaching your brain. Perhaps the thick leather saved you from a broken bone, you hope. Leaning down you go to take off the boot. Desperate to know what lies beneath but a hand on your wrist stops you.
“Don’t.” The first word she says to you. Her voice is rough, harsh as the winter, and coarse as sandpaper. Sounding as if she’d never used it until this very moment. 
Your hand stills as you stare up at her. Unable to deny the authority in her voice you can’t help but listen. Watching as she slides her hand up your arm. Goosebumps shoot up your skin. Her other arm scoops under your legs. Then before you can protest, she hauls you over her shoulder, careful of the pain in your leg.  
The last thing you see is the corpses of the soldiers, fading into the red pines. Their remains swallowed by the earth as this strange woman whisks you away.
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soapyghostie · 1 year ago
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Hihihi! May I pretty please request platonic Anna x reader where reader has this childlike wonder to her causing Anna's motherly instincts to kick in? For example, when Anna and her are alone in a trial and reader knows she is getting the hatch, she bursts out of a nearby locker shouting "Boo!" to then run off while giggling. Basically when reader is the last survivor it all becomes a game where Anna pretends to be chasing after her (and maybe just maybe reader says "Bye, mama!" when Anna lets her escape)
If you don't like these kind of requests, it's totally cool! No pressure at all and thank you for reading! 🩷
A request with our sweet mama bear killer Anna! This was a pretty cute request (that has been in my inbox for months). Glad that I finally got to it. Hope y’all enjoy a little Anna fluff!
The Huntress/Anna
When Anna first encounters you in the fog, your wide-eyed innocence catches her attention. She’ll feel an unexpected surge of protective and nurturing instincts towards you. You pick up on this newfound demeanor Anna has towards you, triggering your childlike wonder in trials. 
You often hum or sing innocent tunes while working on generators, which inadvertently soothes Anna and brings a sense of calmness to the trial. The other survivors within the trial will pick up the change in tone, becoming uneasy. Anna is unpredictable. Depending on her mood, she can be extremely brutal, slaughtering them like animals, or be merciful. They never know and are always being cautious when in a trial with The Huntress. 
In the midst of the trial, you hide in lockers, waiting for Anna to pass by. As Anna approaches, you burst out shouting “Boo!” and dart away, leaving Anna momentarily surprised before a small smile graces her face. As you run away, your infectious laughter becomes a beacon of joy in the tense atmosphere of the trials, and even in the face of danger, you find reasons to giggle. 
When you are the last survivor, instead of rushing to escape through the hatch, you playfully run around as Anna pretends to chase you, both of y’all enjoying the game. You, aware that Anna allows you to escape, always make a show of finding the hatch. When you do, you open it with exaggerated excitement, turning the tense escape into a delightful game. Before you escape, you call out “Bye Mama!” as you jump into the hatch, filling Anna with a sense of warmth. 
If you end up getting exhausted after a playful game of chase, Anna will pick you up and hum a lullaby that your parents used to sing to you as she carries you to the hatch. 
You often bring small trinkets into the trials, like flowers or handmade drawings, placing them by generators as offerings. Anna acknowledges these gifts making her smile, admiring the little designs that you crafted by your own hand.
Instead of feeling fear for Anna’s red stain, you view it as a comforting presence, knowing that she is watching over you in her trials. 
You understand the importance of totems. You often pat them and whisper words of encouragement to help Anna win her trials, unknowingly earning Anna’s appreciation. Additionally, in rare moments, Anna will catch herself softly whispering words of reassurance in her broken English to you if you feel scared or lonely. 
After trials, you and Anna will sit together in her quiet cabin in the Red Forest, sharing a moment of respite from the horrors of the Entity’s realm. You and Anna develop an unspoken understanding, transcending the boundaries of killer and survivor. Y’all’s peculiar dynamic becomes a source of mystery and fascination for both killers and survivors.
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inkblottedsoul · 11 months ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dead by Daylight (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper & Reader, Anna | The Huntress & Reader Characters: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper, Anna | The Huntress (Dead by Daylight), Reader Additional Tags: AFAB reader - Freeform, Reader is otherwise gender neutral, Dubcon if you squint but it's largely consensual, soft trapper, stuck in window, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Mention of injury by bear trap, Canon Typical Violence, Violence referenced not explicitly described, Second person POV, Reader has an established situationship with Trapper Summary:
The Entity has decided just one killer to face isn't enough and drops you and seven others into a trial with two of its pet killers: Trapper and Huntress. When you're the last one remaining and get stuck halfway through a window frame trying to run from them both at once, they decide it might be time to have a little fun with their caught prey... Hello all! Got my first piece of writing in years out and hoping to do more. I’d love to hear your thoughts!
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fishyvamp · 7 months ago
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This would happen way way further down the line in the fae!AU timeline. Just thinking about Fae!Huntress somehow she and Little Cub get a kit of their own just this small little thing that somehow looks exactly like the perfect mix of you and her. the rabbit Fae picking the child up by the scruff to show the other Faeries she's close to:
Fae!Trapper couldn't give a shit (a lie), kids are a hassle, and he's like 70-80% sure he'd be a shit dad. Most fae are anyways, but his father in life wasn't great either. No guarantees that wouldn't bleed through. Though his husband does look kid of cute holding the small kit. Nope, kids are a hassle the kit you and Fae!Huntress made isn't going to change his mind.
Fae!Hillbilly gushing over the little kit talking about wanting pups of his own to complete his family. Bug just shooting Little cub an annoyed look mouthing "god no". They're only just now adjusting to the fact that the dog they adopted a year ago is actually a fully grown man.
Fae!Wraith wondering if kids would be smart for him and Jinx. Knowing their luck they'd end up either with no kids or triplets if they tried. The sleepless nights, the endless tantrums, and there is still the lingering question of wether or not that luck is hereditary. Does he really want to risk being around that many black holes of luck? Nope not ready yet, but the kid is cute and he's happy to see Huntress so proud of the baby girl she's somehow made.
Fae!Executioner for just a moment pictures rat with a pup and promptly shoves that thought as far out of his mind knowing that whatever would come out of the unholy union of him and Rat would be a menace not just to him, but to the community as a whole. He's content to see Rat cooing at the child talking about the mischief they want to get up to with the kit once she can walk.
Fae!Ghostface sees all the fuss, he isn't allowed around the kit because huntress still wants him dead, but he fantasizes about giving sprig another little sapling all the same. His body all warm and fuzzy just imagining making Oak a big brother. Ghostface mentally wondering if he should get all of him involved keep sprig nice and filled. Yeah, that sounds like the perfect Idea for the Fae of many faces. Somewhere sprig is filled with a sense of dread already feeling his body aching knowing someone is having nasty thoughts they shouldn't be thinking.
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nezhathecatfish · 1 year ago
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Characters/Chapter 1 of DEAD
Waringing about this book.  Blood Death of a friend. Kidnapping And others will be added/removed later.
And the Reader in this is a Women. So WLW!!! Reader is bi/pan/queer. 
The Lover (Y/n) (L/n) - Why called the lover? Because everyone (that I will do) is in love with (Y/n). 
The Shape Micheal Myers - Why called the Shape? Because he is a shape of a man. 
The Huntress Anna - Why called the Huntress? She is a good hunter (in order to live). 
The Ghostface Danny Johnson - Why called the Ghostface? Because that is what he is, a Ghostface. The Legion Frank Morrison Susie Lavoie - Why the Legion? Because they are a group that are armed. 
The Executioner Pyramid Head - Why the Executioner? Because he kills people. 
Chapter 1
The woods were harsh on your body. You and a friend, Jezz, were out of the hiking trail.  "Where the fuck are we going?" You asked her. She smiles and laughs. "Well, I'm not sure! But it sure is fun!" She ran off ahead of me. "Wait!" I ran after her.  As we raced through the woods, laughing, and giggling out loud, we soon became lost in the woods.  "Shit! We're lost..." Jezz said, sighing, looking around. "I told you not to run!" I flicked her forehead, only to make her give out a fake gasp. "How dare you!" She said, holding her forehead. "Oh, your fine." I brushed her off and we kept going in one direction. "I told you we shouldn't have run off... Now we're lost." I told Jezz, annoyed. "Relax. We'll find something soon." Jezz said, walking through the woods with her bag to her shoulder. "Or something will find us!" I said, a little scared. Jezz stopped, turned to me, and held my hands. "Hey, we're alive? Aren't we? So what if we're a little lost? We got each other and we'll make it." Jezz told me, making me smile. "Ya, we have each other." I repeated and stared into her eyes. She then let go of my hands and kept walking. "Now, let's build a shelter before it gets to dark!" Jezz said, with a determand look on her face. "Ok, but with what?" I asked her. "Good thing I always watched Naked and NOT afraid." Jezz joked. "Well, I hope we're not naked." I joked back and started to gather branches with Jezz.  After we were done, our hands were covered in mud. "Good thing we brought those baby wipes." Jezz pulled out some baby wipes. "You brought those?" I asked her, raising my eyebrow as she washed off her own hands. "Yep!" She replied back. I take one and started to get the stuff off my hands. Jezz belly let out a howl, making me just. "Jezz! Your belly scared me!" I said, looking down to her belly. "Well, looks like we're going to try and find something to eat." Jezz digged around in her bag. "Damn, looks like I didn't get anything." She sighed out, and then searched mine. The shy was falling. "Maybe we can eat the grass?" I asked her, half joking. "We're not cows (Y/n)." Jezz said and kept looking through my bag. She let out a sigh and pulled out some ticktacks. "Really?" She asks me. I crossed my arms. "Hey, I love those!" I defended myself. She take two ticktacks and ate them. "We'll only have two a day." I told her and put them back into my bag. She put her hands on her face. "God, we're going to die aren't we? Become missing and no one will ever find us?" I said, tears coming to my face. Jezz pulled me into a hug. "Shhh... It's ok...." She hummed. I held onto her like she was my Mother. 
Here is the story on Wattpad! DEAD (Dead by daylight x reader) - Nezha the third prince - Wattpad
Part 2!
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your-goth-sis · 2 years ago
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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!
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