#jake and his dbd antics

[prgenitor]

i always think of jake seeing chris & leon in dbd and being like holy shit, you guys are young. and they're just ??? who tf ??

also making matches absolute hell for wesker. until he plants himself in the rpd office one day like what's up.

[gatitties]

Amogus

─ Dbd x gn!teen!reader

─ Summary: playing among us was never a good idea, less with assassins...

─ Warnings: none

4 < 5 > 6

So, you sacrificed most of the blood points you had for your teammates to get any kind of electronic device because you wanted to play Among Us, their devices didn't even have a function other than the game so they couldn't do much more.

My God you got so annoying that everyone ended up playing, but after a few games everyone seems to be entertained, well, it was something new to do apart from looking at the fire or sleeping. Jeff always complained because he never got to be an impostor, while Nea just laughed because most of the time she was an impostor. You stayed somewhat neutral, being equal parts crewmate and impostor, although without a doubt the best impostor team was you and Laurie, you always accused Ace or Steve of being them, and the others seemed to prefer to vote for them.

Feng Min and Tapp took it too seriously, as if they were paid investigators to uncover the culprits behind the deaths. Quentin hardly knew what was going on, you could only hear him complain whenever he was killed and not wanting to look at the person who had killed him.

Broadly speaking, you could say that you had made the stay at the campfire a little more enjoyable, despite there being some cries here and there about being killed or killing an innocent, even because Jake ratted out his impostor partner even though he ended up winning. Things were pretty calm, but what if they were the killers?

You needed to see their gameplay methods so badly that you begged that they could play too, of course the entity just took the phones from the survivors, passing them to the killers, it was twice as much fun for you.

Shouting and insults from Ghostface and The Legion, Myers didn't even give a shit about stabbing someone with witnesses or chasing you all over the map, but the voting was always so chaotic that they just skipped or killed a random person because, killing? it was ok wasn't it? For them it was like playing with the main character.

Many complaints from Bubba because he did not understand how to play well, support from The Wraith that helped him with some of his missions. Happy noises from Max whenever he had to be an impostor. Maybe Pinhead was the only one who seriously played along with Amanda. If they could kill, Anna would have already hacked The Clown for killing her every time he had to be an impostor, just like Frank would have stabbed Danny because he was always kicked off the ship because of him.

While you just sat in silence, holding in laughter as you watched chaos spread around you, you felt like the villain of a movie watching all the protagonists die one by one while you caress your cat with a resting bitch face.

Unfortunately, the amogus stage didn't last long, The Entity got tired of the nonsense pretty quickly and decided to get rid of all the electronic devices she had lent, this didn't take away the fun at all, just wait a few more days and she would find you asking for any other antics, she only hoped that you would not ask her for those inflatable suits in the shape of the characters of the game.

[dweetwise]

The entity decides to celebrate with more than some minigame of a hat and a medkit or flashlight. Ace goes to try and get anything from a chest finds some booze to take back to the campfire. He really is the luckiest man. (Also just like Ace trying to trade his life for some booze to not be put on the hook is a lil funny)

[i will take any excuse to write more ace! happy 4th anniversary to dbd <3]

Characters: Ace, Hillbilly | Mentioned: Meg, Jane, Bill, Steve, Kate, Tapp, Quentin, Nea, Claudette, Dwight, Feng, Laurie, Jake, Ash | Ships: None

Celebration (crack)

When the familiar toll of a bell echoes through the trial to signal the hatch closing and start of endgame, Ace sighs in defeat. The Hillbilly had been a huge tryhard the entire game, tunneling Meg and Jane to death for daring to pick up the Entity’s crowns, while Bill had ended up slugged more times than he remembered trying to protect the women. The killer eventually camped the downed body of the veteran until he bled out, trying to bait Ace out to save him to secure the 4k. During the whole clusterfuck of the match, Ace had only managed to get two gens done and thus, the hatch hadn’t spawned until Bill bled out on the ground.

And wouldn’t you know it, not even ten seconds after Bill’s prone aura collapsed and faded, the killer had found the damn hatch and closed it. To add insult to injury, the exits that powered were placed along the same wall, the killer having no issues patrolling them both while sprinting with his chainsaw.

It definitely looked like luck was not on Ace’s side today, so he makes his way down to the basement, hopes of finding a key low but at least wanting to delay his inevitable doom. While rummaging through the chest, his hand closes over a cylindrical object. Eh, a flashlight wasn’t ideal, but maybe it was one of the new cool ones, and he could get in a blind on the killer and see some confetti pop up in one last hurrah before taking a chainsaw to the face.

He removes the item from the chest and does a double take. It’s definitely not a flashlight; it’s a bottle. Of booze. He smiles in pure glee: thank you, Entity!

There’s only one problem. He needs to get out of the trial alive if he wants to take it back to the campfire. He frowns; normally, he wouldn’t be above drinking himself stupid in the the basement, but the end game timer is steadily ticking down and he wouldn’t even be able to feel a buzz before getting impaled by an Entity claw. There’s only one option: he needs to bribe the killer. He takes a swig of the unknown liquid — rum, he recognizes — and hopes that this will work.

Ace strolls up to the killer’s patrol route, not even bothering to try to hide. When the killer spots him and starts revving his chainsaw, Ace extends the bottle. “I want to parley,” he demands, and okay, apparently the rum inspired him to become a pirate.

The Hillbilly lowers his chainsaw and approaches him. Hey, at least Ace hasn’t been sawed in half... yet.

“Look, I really wanna bring this back to the campfire,” Ace says, shaking the bottle in his hand. “What do I have to do?”

Please don’t say blowjob please don’t say blowjob —

The killer lets his hammer fall to the ground and reaches behind himself, unstrapping something from his belt — a jug? Ace watches in confusion as the killer uncorks the item, and he nearly gags as a sharp smell of alcohol fills the air. Okay, that’s got to be some very potent, very poorly made moonshine. The Hillbilly holds out the pitcher to him and fuck, he’s offering it to Ace. Ace swallows the building panic and steels himself, hoping he won’t go blind from tasting the swill — but the killer merely clinks the item against Ace’s bottle. Ace gets the hint, hurrying to unscrew the bottle, offering a hesitant “Happy anniversary?” as he lifts the bottle in a toast before the two men take a big swig of their respective beverages.

The killer seems satisfied with his efforts and nods toward one of the exits, picking up his hammer and taking off.

Ace is a little tipsy when he stumbles back to camp, not having been able to resist sipping the alcohol on his way. He half-expects to get a lecture from Bill for screwing up the trial, so before anyone has a chance to get on his case, he holds up the bottle in triumph and exclaims “I come bearing gifts!”.

Later, when they’re all feeling a slight buzz from the liquor, Ace looks around the camp and smiles happily at the other survivor’s antics. Tapp is lecturing a dopey Quentin about underage drinking, to which the teen just grins and flips him off. Claudette is giggling uncontrollably at a pun an uncharacteristically lighthearted Bill cracks. Some of the girls and Dwight are playing spin the bottle, Meg and Nea relentlessly teasing Dwight with questions like “Marry, fuck, kill”. Feng is coming up with a battle plan to loot more booze from trials, trying to recruit an unimpressed Laurie. Even Jake has mellowed out a bit, joining Ash and a few others in a poker game. 

Kate and Steve approach Ace, with the latter stumbling slightly, collapsing into Ace’s shoulder. Steve mumbles something about being a lightweight while Ace tries to help the teen back on his feet, but Kate distracts him by grabbing Ace’s head and giving him a drunk, sloppy smooch on the cheek. “You’re so precious for sharin’ with us all,” the girl drawls with an even thicker southern accent than usual.

When he finally manages to send the two on their way, Steve leaning on Kate for support, Ace looks up at the fake stars in the fake sky above the campfire, offering a silent thank you to the Entity for giving them a small break from the monotony of the fog.

i’m trying my best to start writing shorter stories so i can get more requests done ;w;