#jed olsen imagines

[airbendertendou]

lonely heart ♡ danny johnson

soulmate au where the first time you have skin to skin contact, your body glows & is stamped w their handprint - it looks like a birthmark.

cw ; typical dbd warnings [blood n gore] ; reader offers ghostie a nude pic in exchange for freedom ; might b ooc but idc <3 ; how danny looks is up to you!

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

The heat of the campfire brushes against your face, warming your skin just enough to forget the biting wind. Nancy is beside you, falling asleep where she sits, nodding her head forward before she snaps out of it. Across the fire, Feng is chatting idly with Dwight and Steve, Leon chiming in when he felt like it. 

The bench-like-log you’re sitting on shifts as Nea takes a seat, letting out a huff as she settles. “It’s been quiet recently,” she says, “too quiet if you ask me.”

“I’m a little wary,” you agree. Your eyes scope the woods surrounding the survivors as if someone is going to pop out any second. They wouldn’t, though — the killers kept away from the light of the fire and never wandered any closer than they were allowed. “I wonder if something’s happened.”

Nea rolls her eyes, “we wouldn’t be so lucky.” 

You grin at her pessimism, shoving her lightly with your left shoulder. Nea snickers as Nancy jumps awake once more, jolting in her sleep before yawning. A faded, gray fog settles over the camp and with it, five more survivors make their way around the campfire. You know what that means — a new trial is bound to start at any second.

Readying yourself, your muscles tense and your heart rate picks up, preparing to sprint when the time comes. A darkened, indigo-tinted fog wraps around you — it’s cold and loud as it grasps you from the campfire. You blink and then you’re in Haddonfield. 

Taking in a deep breath, you shuffle quickly to the nearest generator. Feng smiles as she passes by you stealthily, clicking her flashlight at you a few times. The area is terrifyingly quiet — it must mean your killer this round is a watcher. You puff up your cheeks as you mis-wire something, moving away from the generator that’s popped.

A scream echoes in the distance — it sounds too close, so you take off.

Momentarily, you hide in a dusty bedroom. You peek from the walls, not spotting anyone other than the back of Leon’s bulletproof vest. Another look from the room — another scream hits the air. 

Finding another generator was easy enough, but trying to stay hidden was a little more difficult. Your fingers curl and tug on wires, the smell of oil and burning wires hitting you the more you twiddle with them. Claudette hovers beside you, checking to see if you need any healing. Deeming you healthy, she flops to the other side of the generator.

“It’s Ghostface,” she breathes. Looking over her shoulder warily, she gulps as she looks back to you. “Already got Feng and Dwight. Only one gen’s done ; I’ve been hooked.”

You pause your wiring, confusion building up in you. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Claudette pauses too, looking over you with a furrowed eyebrow. “If we don’t make it, then win for us. Yeah?”

The generator pops with completion, lighting up for a second and exposing your location. You take off in the opposite direction Claudette did, hopping through a window and out through the backdoor. A flash of black catches your eye — your killer has finally shown himself.

You decide to buy everyone else some time. Hopefully, with a little distraction, a few more generator’s could be fixed.

Sneaking behind him, you let out a small “psst!” and wait for his attention to fall on you. He whips around, white mask greeting you. Walking towards a closet, you point to it a few times. Ghostface looks from the closet, to you, and back again. You wiggle your hand, insisting, “someone’s in there!”

Curiously, the closet door creaks open and Ghostface sees it’s empty. He turns to face you slowly and you’re already holding back giggles. A chase is pursued — something you struggle to do with all of your laughter. He swings his knife haphazardly, not really aiming at you, but not allowing you to get away with your joke either.

“Heheh—ah!” After a successful swing, a cut slashes across your arm. Blood seeps from it as you fall to the ground, laughter still spilling from your lips as you roll around. Ghostface shakes his head down at you — as if he’s disappointed in your joke — before he saunters off to find his next victim. You frown as your laughter comes to a stop, “well, now what?”

Another generator pops and you think this is it. We’re so close to going home — well, what you call home now. Letting out a sigh, you sit up and wrap your new cut with a bandage. You hear a squeal, then a scream. Seems our Ghostie is agitated now ; ready to get the trial over with. 

Chills flow up your spine, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead as the feeling of being watched overpowers you. That can’t be good. You stiffen, looking through the corner of your eyes without turning your head. Hopefully, you’ll see him with your peripheral vision if he’s near. Otherwise— you didn’t want to think of the other option.

Sneakily, you tip-toe into a nearby house, hoping to wait out the feeling. But, you know you won’t. One thing about Ghostface is once his eyes are set on you, you’re not escaping. A noise catches your attention in the silence — the sound of a latch unlocking. 

The hatch — you must be the only one left. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you creep along the street, keeping an eye out for the hatch. You see it — it’s right in your sights and your heart rate picks up. Shaky breaths escape your parted lips as you glance around the empty street. Coast is clear — time to make a run for it.

Until a white mask phases in out of nowhere, directly on the other side of the hatch.

“Oh, come on,” you whine. Ghostface tilts his head at you, waving his knife teasingly. Your arm stings with the shine of it, bandage now being colored a deep red. “I’m so close to ending this!” He continues to stare your way silently. “Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”

“That’s the game, doll.” You’ve never heard him speak before now. A static-y, modulated voice isn’t what you expect to hear. He creeps closer, no longer directly across from you. “That’s what makes this fun.”

You purse your lips, fingers knotting together at the edge of your edge. “Okay, how about this? You let me take hatch, and I’ll let you take a shirtless picture of me. My face isn’t allowed to be in it, though!”

Ghostface bounced where he stood, an excited giggle echoing in his mask as he immediately agreed. Puffing up your cheeks, you let out a breath before nodding to yourself in encouragement. A polaroid camera has replaced the blood-soaked knife in his hand — even with the weapon gone from sight, dread flushes through you.

“Okay,” you say to yourself, “this is no big deal.”

Without another thought, your fingers clench the end of your shirt and raise it to cover your face. Your skin prickles with the wind, goosebumps raising at the new sensation. With bated breath, you wait to hear the shutter go off — a click, another giggle, the hatch closing ; anything. All that’s there is silence.

And then a leather glove is wrapped around your wrist.

Jumping at the sudden touch, your shirt falls back into place as you take a step back. Only a sliver of skin is free from the glove — just enough for his skin to brush against yours.

A golden sheen takes over you, settling where your bodies meet. In a panic induced state, you’re pushed to the ground as Ghostface hovers over top of you. Shaky, shallow breaths hit his mask as his camera is settled to the right of your head. Slowly, he peels a glove off and reaches for you.

Where his now bare hand meets, a light follows. Right on your wrist, the shape of his fingers is imprinted forever, as if it were a birthmark you were born with. It was supposed to be a myth — a tale shared between hopeless romantic’s. Soulmates weren’t supposed to actually exist.

Except, yours apparently did. In a realm you couldn’t escape ; killing you and your fellow survivors on a continuous loop. You were stuck there — stuck with a murderer as your soulmate until forevermore. 

Ruffled hair is exposed to the wind as Ghostface unmasks himself, his pupils practically hearts as he stares down at you. His eyes search your face, never settling on one particular spot as he drinks you in entirely. You feel as he lets out a breath ; feel his shoulders sag with some kind of relief as he grabs one of your hands. He leads it to his face and lets out another sigh when his skin glows, the shape of your hand left on the left side of his face.

“Mine,” his voice is soft. You can’t stop looking at him — can’t stop staring at your hand that’s been imprinted onto his cheek. “You’re all mine. Made just for me.”

You can’t tell if the feeling swelling inside of you is dread or excitement. But, you let him pull you closer anyways ; allow him to hug you as he pleases. This could come in handy, after all. Maybe.

——♡—— lets ignore that valentines day is over already teehee <3 i hope my version of ghostie is okay, idk how well i write him </3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

would Ghostface get married/have kids (if so, how many?)

Ghostface(s) when it comes to marriage and kids

I hope you don't mind me writing dbd ghostface, Billy, stu, Mickey altieri. If you wanted any more of the ghostfaces or if you want headcanons on how they would be as dads, feel free to let me know ^<^

Warnings: slight mentions of baby trapping on Jeds part, Canon typical violence (its Ghostface), spoilers for scream 5 on Billy's part

Fem! Leaning Reader, the marriage part could be read as gender neutral though

Jed Olsen

Jed isn't big on the concept of marriage for what most normal people would be when it comes to marriage. (I.E. the love and unification between two people) Jed definitely would use marriage with an significant other as a way to throw off the police for the most part.

A red harring to make profiling the Roseville killer much harder for them. For the most part, I think that Jed isn't keen on having the commitment of marriage because of his passion for being the ghostface.

So marriage with Jed wouldn't be a easy of fun one. You'll barely see him for possibly days on end between his day job and his true love- being ghost face. You would have to either be someone who is the house wife/husband type who asks no questions or the spouse who knows and supports jeds Ghost face passion.

When it comes to having children of his own, jed isn't big on it. Most cases, any pregnancy with jed would be accidental [if you're able to get pregnant] i.e. broken condoms, failed birth control.

On the very rare case that he feels like you're going to find out about his Ghostface passion, you might end up being pregnant as an attempt to keep you from leaving/ blowing his cover.

Kid total he wants: 1, maybe 2

Billy loomis

It's going to take a lot for Billy to want to get married. It's mostly because of his own parents and how their marriage ended.

I do believe that eventually, once Billy becomes more mature with his trauma having to deal with his mother abandoning him and his father not being the best, he might be more open to marriage. Like Jed, Billy might also use marriage as a cover for if he eventually goes back to becoming ghostface.

Ideally, Billy and Stu were never caught as the Woodsboro killers and got away with it, I feel that being married to Billy would feel like you're also in a way married to Stu given how close of a friendship they have with each other. At least with Billy, the marriage would feel more loving rather than you coexisting with a human sized murderous cat.

Although Billy does technically have a daughter, I don't think that he would be in any rush to have kids especially if the case was he just found out about knocking a girl up when he was a senior in high school. He would like to try to get to know the daughter that was hidden from him before he brings any more mini Lomis' into the world.

If we ignore scream 5 and Billy didnt have any children before marrying you, the case of any pregnancy would be most likey be an accidental one (i.e. not pulling out on time, condom broke, failed birth control, forgetting to use protection)

Kid total he wants: 1

Stu Macher

Stu would be one of the ghostfaces who would be into marrying someone for legitimate reasons rather than a alibi.

Out of him and Billy, Stu would be the first one to get married and potentially start a family of his own. Money wouldn't be an issue for him because of his family and his privileged upbringing to be able to be a better husband out of the ghostfaces.

Being married to Stu for the most part is close to a kinda normal marriage you'll get in your situation as the spouse of a Ghostface. Stus worst flaw would be his tendency of threatening you financially if you push too hard on his Ghostface hobby.

Having children with Stu would be one of the more natural things to happen compared to Billy or Jed. Especially if Stu and you have been together for a while.

Stu is also one of the more supportive Ghostface husbands when it comes to helping out with taking care of your shared children/ supporting you through your pregnancy.

Kid total he wants: 2 or 3, he's open to however many you want

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would probably marry you just to further cement his name into being known more for his killings in Windsor. He loves you in his own peculiar way but he also knows how you can help make him even more well known by you being the spouse of him.

Mickey is the only Ghostface that I don't really see a way I can write him to where he fully gets away with being Ghostface without making him out of his character. The most likely scenario is the both of you will end up marrying with before he gets caught or a prison wedding.

Marriage with mickey will be more isolating than marrying Jed because you will be isolated from the public for being the wife of the Windsor Ghostface and the fact your life revolves around seeing Mickey occasionally with the weekly phone calls.

Similar to mickey marrying, he would probably have a child for a similar rason- to keep his name in public. Don't get me wrong, he would love kids with you if you want that too.

Your pregnancy might be before he gets caught or during one of your conjugal visits with Mickey. I just don't think anyone would want you to adopt because of your marriage with mickey.

Kid total he wants: 1, maybe 2 at most

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! dbd ghostface (danny johnson) headcanons

cws: yandere themes, danny is a perv, non-consensual picture taking, stalking obv, slight nsfw themes but danny is just a freak, danny is a sadist, gore, danny makes out with your wounds, obsessive! danny, possessive! danny,

— yan! ghostface whose eye you catch in your first trial. you who are wide eyed, disoriented, and hyper-aware of your surroundings make easy prey.

— yan! ghostface who stalks you for awhile before approaching you, using your disbelief and naivety against you.

— yan! ghostface who explains your situation, portraying himself as a fellow survivor and guides you through the motions of the match before pressing his blade to your throat.

— yan! ghostface who smirks beneath his mask, watching as your eyes widen with fear and betrayal. he feels himself become aroused as your pretty optics glisten with tears, groaning as you beg for him to let you go.

— yan! ghostface who is stunned by a flashlight, feeling you wriggle free from his grip and sprint off like a frightened bunny.

— yan! ghostface who you are wary of in each match. he singles you out and taunts you, describing each horrific thing he’ll do to you once he gets his hands on you, finding that this little obsession of his is growing by the day.

— yan! ghostface who begins thinking about you even outside of trials. it started as wondering what he would do to you next, turning into lustful daydreams and palming himself at the thought of you.

— yan! ghostface who snaps polaroids of you while you do mundane things. assembling a medkit or toolbox, finding materials for offerings, talking to your fellow survivors…

— yan! ghostface who loathes the sight of you smiling at the others in the survivor camp. you belong to him. that smile of yours is reserved for him. your laugh is reserved for him.

— yan! ghostface who slowly feels those lustful feelings of his grow into something deeper. he finds himself thinking less and less about ways to kill you, and more about ways he could make you smile.

— yan! ghostface who, in your next trial with him, brings you the body of each survivor, dropping it in front of you much like a cat would gift its owner a dead mouse.

— yan! ghostface who corners you, sitting on your stomach and wrapping his fingers around your throat. he swiftly snaps a polaroid of this beautiful sight, crazed ramblings about how you’ve caught his attention leaving his lips.

— yan! ghostface who is amused at how quickly you’ve gained his interest, his favorite pastimes stalking you and leaving just enough of a trace for you to know he was there.

— yan! ghostface who finds it incredibly romantic to hold your hand while you bleed out beneath him, his mask lifted to show off the frenzied look in his eyes, blood dripping from his chin and onto your paling features.

— yan! ghostface who looooves to makeout with your stab wounds. he’s always sure to leave you for last, finding motivation in the fact that if he rids the trial of all other survivors, he can spend as much time with you as he pleases.

— yan! ghostface who coos at you as you beg for him to let you go… or to just end it already. a frown tugging at his lips as he feels his heart pang with the slightest of remorse. he quickly covers it up with a mocking sneer, telling you that you should be proud to bear his love in such a way. no one’s ever had it but you.

— yan! ghostface who singles out each person you talk to in their next trial with him, mercilessly slaughtering them as he tells them to stay the fuck away from you.

— yan! ghostface who somehow convinces the entity to let you spend some time with him on a random day, designating it as your new birthday. he’ll watch with interest as your shaky fingers grip the rusted fork, shoving the mediocre cake down your throat. he’s never seen a better sight.

— yan! ghostface who loooves everything about you <33

[lorimnnn]

Hi! I really liked your Ghostface crybaby! Post! I was wandering if your requests are open if you’d write a Ghostface with a unrequited survivor/reader/yn where Ghostface has the hots but the survivor/yn just ain’t feeling it. If requests aren’t open plz ignore! But seriously love your work! Totally made my day!

ahhhh i usually hate angsty things like this so I actually considering not doing it.... but the potential was too good to resist. ty for your kind words, i seriously love writing up requests <3

p.s. i accidentally deleted it and got so unmotivated :((((( here it is though

the second he sees you he's convinced the entity has sent him a gift. you're literally his type head to toe and while he's insanely attracted to you, he's twice as excited to kill you

you become his obsession.

over. and over again.

your teammates realise that he will always go after you first if he can and they abuse this fact to an inch of it's life. you understand, of course.

you hate pain. the innocent type, the sweet type. compassionate to a fault even if it's plunged you into pain again and again.

Ghostface wants to break you

there is a perverse thrill in seeing you helpless in the dirt, sobbing, begging him to stop. he has to have mori-d you one thousand times across all the trials you've had together, now. but it never hurts any less and you never get used to it.

you don't seem to understand that this is a game, either. it's like real life.

"God, you're hot." His breath shutters in his throat as he takes you in, bloody and shivering on the ground. The Entity had been feeling generous recently and because of his good behaviour, had put you in a skimpy little dress.

You whimper when he nears.

"No, no no," you say, trying to back away from him. "Please."

"You know it turns me on when you beg, babe."

You sob harder when he crouches, weaving one hand into the back of your hair to haul you upright and against him. As always, he's deceivingly gentle. If not for his wondering hands you'd think he felt bad for you--- but that was never the case.

"Please stop," you say again.

"Now why would I do that?" He combs his gloved hand through your hair. The metallic scent of your blood has him dizzy and plunged into a haze that is purely you. You, you, you. Sometimes he swears he could care less about hurting you. He just wants to see you. Your face, contorting with pain, with a smile, with---

So maybe he liked you a little.

"I know I'm your favourite," he says confidently, and then rearranges you to sit in his lap. You sniffle. He groans.

You're so cute.

And you can't help it, even if you're afraid of him--- by nature you've always been obedient and timid and good. So good. It had costed you everything by the end.

It makes him feel so powerful.

Makes you feel so small.

"I'll give you the hatch if you play nice today," he lies. He rubs your thigh and nuzzles your hair, the plastic probing into your bruised flesh. "Hm? What about it?"

You hate him.

You hate him so much.

And before you know it, it's falling out of your mouth, bitter and harsh and sapping almost all of your remaining energy.

"I hate you. Fuck you."

It's so unexpected that he flinches.

He knows you're not best friends or anything, but he never prepared himself to hear it. and it was different

it actually hurt

and you said in the same way the he claimed to like you--- eternally, unchanging, unaltered

was it the continuous mori-ing?

you had to understand that everything in-trial was purely business, even if he did get a good kick out of it. after a while he'd gotten used to how naive you were and assumed he could twist it to fit his ways

he underestimated you

and he hates himself for feeling like he doesn't know you when you say this, because he's obsessed in every sense of the word. he watches you at the campfire, doting on your teammates. so kind. bright, smiley. then you would cry yourself to sleep and he would only feel the littlest bit bad, but not enough to count

but he should have guessed it

he shouldn't feel hurt by it, either--- you're his victim first and foremost. his beautiful, kind, compassionate victim who he wanted to lock away and protect as much as he wanted to hurt.

he'd never seen you so set in your ways before. so strong. it was a complete contrast to your usual soft-spoken shyness.

He blinked, incredulous. "Aw, sweetheart. I'm sure it isn't personal."

"I hope you die in a ditch."

"You killing me would be hot."

You don't laugh.

Now he's starting to panic a little, because usually he can ignore it. You never laugh. But he can't deny it now.

You hate him.

More than anything in this plane of existence. And that's a problem. Because after this trial, it quickly occurs to him that he doesn't only like you, but likes you a lot. More than he should be allowed. Against his own will he finds his work ethic challenged and his sadistic pleasure dwindling into his guilt, his sole motivation to stay sane in this shitty reality. Now he doesn't know what to make of it.

What was he supposed to do?

He tries everything after that. He genuinely starts trying to give you the hatch and now you're slamming pallets over his head with twice as much of force.

He starts getting artsy with his pictures of you. You're actually alive in these ones. You throw every single one into the fire.

Fuck. He even consults Bubba for help and picks out a bunch of flowers to give to you alongside a heartfelt apology, but you laugh in his face.

it hurts

it hurts even more when you leave and cuddle up to some of the survivors--- the people who left you behind time and time again. the fact that you'd rather them over him spoke volumes and he would find himself incurably jealous.

he couldn't even hurt them to get over it because it would only make you hate him more

for the first time in his life, Jed Olsen regretted killing. It had led him to you and also driven the two of you apart with twice as much force

he hates it

he hates what you've done to him and he hates that he's starting to love you and he hates, most of all---

the fact you will never love him back

[d34dg1rl5]

Chase

In the heart-pounding realm of the Entity, where every moment is fraught with danger and fear, (Y/N) found themselves trapped in a nightmarish chase with Ghostface, the embodiment of terror itself. But what made this chase all the more complicated was (Y/N)'s conflicting emotions—they had a crush on Ghostface, despite the imminent threat to their life.

It began like any other match, with (Y/N) finding themselves transported to the eerie realm known as the MacMillan Estate. The fog was thick, obscuring vision, and the sound of a heartbeat thudded ominously in their ears. They knew they were not alone.

As they cautiously moved through the desolate landscape, trying to evade the killer's gaze, they couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. And indeed, they were right. Ghostface, with his iconic mask and chilling presence, was stalking them, his knife glinting in the moonlight.

But strangely, amidst the fear, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement whenever Ghostface drew near. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the chase or the forbidden allure of danger, but (Y/N)'s heart raced for reasons beyond mere survival.

As the chase intensified, with (Y/N) narrowly dodging Ghostface's swings and vaulting over obstacles, they found themselves drawn deeper into the twisted game of cat and mouse. But with each close encounter, (Y/N) couldn't ignore the undeniable chemistry between them and Ghostface, even amidst the terror.

Despite their feelings, (Y/N) knew they had to survive. They had to escape this relentless pursuer. With every ounce of strength and cunning they possessed, they devised a plan. They led Ghostface on a wild chase through the Estate, ducking and weaving through the labyrinthine structures, until finally, they found themselves at the exit gates.

But just as victory seemed within reach, Ghostface appeared once more, blocking their path. For a moment, (Y/N) froze, torn between fear and desire. But then, with a surge of determination, they made their move.

With a swift and daring maneuver, (Y/N) managed to outmaneuver Ghostface, slipping past him and through the open gate to freedom. As they sprinted into the darkness, heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through their veins, they couldn't help but steal a glance back at Ghostface.

And in that moment, amidst the chaos and danger, (Y/N) saw something unexpected in Ghostface's eyes—perhaps a hint of admiration, or even something more. But there was no time to dwell on it, as they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the enigmatic killer they couldn't help but be drawn to.

A/N: Hello everyone! I tried something different today - thats right, i used a gender neutral reader instead of a female one. I hope yall like it and let me know if yall want more of gender neutral reader!

[guttedwhxre]

how they'd get rid of you, pt. 2 - multiple slashers

UNDER THE CUT: jed olsen, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, asa emory, amanda young

tw: reader death, violence, torture ment

author's note: since people seemed so fond of the first one, here's another for you! lmk if there's anyone you guys would want to see in particular - or if you wanted an 'are they sorry' for these guys too! enjoy <33 oh and here's the og post <3

JED would probably just kill you. i’m sorry, sweet thing, but you know way too much - and unlike billy and stu he’s unwilling to take the risk of you singing to the authorities. no doubt he’s taken careful months of planning to infiltrate whatever town he’s taken to, and him tiring of you, even dating you in the first place, was an unexpected wrench in his plans. your death, like all other things, would be planned out meticulously, and he of course would make it look like an unfortunate accident after. he takes his usual souvenir photos to commemorate your time together, but he couldn’t possibly take the risk of your murder being linked to his other work! no, too much of a coincidence - better safe than sorry. jed would only take these measures if you ever became a danger to his operations, whether he came to distrust you or you became too skittish. you need to be all in - and if you’re not, well, jed could always use the practice. 

with BO, it honestly depends. piss him off enough and he’ll hand you over to his brother to become a nice new figure for the town, or in luckier circumstances he’ll just tell you to fuck off. not without threatening you of course, promising to find you if ambrose ever becomes compromised…if you weren’t that lucky, then first bo will drug your dinner, making sure you fall asleep before hoisting you downstairs to vinny’s studio, handing you over. the man will never complain about having new material - though he’s a little resigned at the thought of it being you. he goes through the motions, taking care to make you as lovely as you were in life now in death. you’d be placed at the top of the stairs in the museum of wax, waving down to all who walked through. bo would only do either of these things if you proved to be useless, sitting around all day instead of carrying your weight. there’s always things to be done in ambrose, things to be cleaned, sorted, tuned, and upkept. if you are to be unable to do anything, without good reason? well, sorry to say it but bo won’t tolerate it - and he’d already have given you several chances to turn it around. whenever he happens by your statue, he gives it a kiss, and keeps moving on. 

VINCENT, firstly it’d take a lot to get him here at all! so if you managed to push his buttons that hard, he wouldn’t even consider turning you to wax. if you’ve been so intolerant of him, of his brothers, so whiny and refuse to help in even the slightest way, vincent will kill you. brutally. this man has a lot of patience, he has to in his line of work, and if you wear him out not only are you probably a huge asshole, you provide nothing. intimacy aside, if you won’t help out, what good are you for his family? for him? it’ll seem like it comes from nowhere, but vincent has already been enduring you for a while - and he’ll endure nothing else. he’ll chase you into the basement, thundering behind you as he brandishes his scissors. when he corners you, gone is the vinny you knew and loved, his face darkened, shoulders heaving as he beats you to the ground, finally severing the cord of your life with a crunching snap of his scissors around your neck. better luck next time! 

ASA is a cold-hearted bitch and could honestly tire of you at any time. doesn’t matter how much he’s come to be sentimental over you, one wrong twitch of your brow and you’d be dying in the worst ways you can imagine. sure, he’s patient but he’s flippant - not concerned with much else besides being amused further, strengthening his collections, and his dogs. if you’re a pet of his you have higher standing in his eyes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not immune to his every whim. and he likes to remind you of that, often. there’s not much to do to prevent or influence this possibly happening - it’s simply luck. 

bonus! AMANDA would have to see if you became unworthy of life. ungrateful of her and your opportunities, so much of her decision would come from months, years of observation. you’re someone who means a lot to her, and she couldn’t just toss you out on a whim - unless kramer told her to, then well, sorry again darling but you’d be throughouhly fucked. assuming that’s not the case, amanda would take stock of your actions, your words, mannerisms, everything, and make a choice. you’d awaken in a trap made especially for you, and we all know amanda has a habit of rigging them to fail. she’d give you a sliver of a chance to make it - but if you fuck it up well, that just proves her point. you weren’t grateful for your lives together after all.

xoxo, babe 💋

[anintroverteddarling]

Have some DBD Ghostface doodles because he's da boi

[hybristophile-bitch]

Aaaaaaahhh finalmente consegui terminar essa imagem 😭😭 linda linda linda amo amo você Danny Johnson amo nosso Ghostface 🤤

[magicwithered]

God I can’t get the thought of your sleaze ball best friend Danny Johnson coming to visit you after years of no contact. He comes to your little apartment, apology on his lips, puppy dog eyes and wanting to remember the good times. You know? When the two of you were kids and watching horror movies together. (He loved how scared you got, even back then.)

He wants to get back in touch. “Being a reporter for the Ghostface killer can be exhausting, you know,” he says, something secretive about his smile. It doesn’t matter, though, you know Danny. You’ve trusted Danny your whole life, you’d know if anything was off.

He pops in his favorite, your least favorite, horror movie. You hide from it, he laughs and calls you cute. He laughs and watches as you cry. “Hey,” he leans over you, pulling the blanket you’ve got trapped under white knuckles, “don’t worry about the scary parts. I’ll keep you safe. It’s just you and me, right?” His fingers are on your jaw. You nod.

Danny loves it when a plan comes through.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DANNY "JED OLSEN" JOHNSON | THE GHOST FACE (dead by daylight)

—

“Try Not to Scream” (Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghost Face x Fem!Reader)

| After you’ve been with Danny for a little while, the instance of him kidnapping you and revealing who he really was behind you but not forgotten, he decides it’s high time he start desensitizing you to what it is he does.

| NSFW, canon typical violence, murder, mature themes, moral dilemma, the reader-insert has in braids (TW: general sadism, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship) -dark!reader & goth!reader

| This fic is a continuation of sorts to the “Jed Olsen” section in this imagine post. This also doesn’t take place in the Entity’s realm. (Pic source: DbD promotional material)

| 2k+ words

EXTRA HC: The justification I’m operating on, in regards to Danny sparing anyone and/or genuinely “dating” anyone, is that Danny has to see some sense of kinship in the other person. A sense that you’re not lying to yourself like everyone else but him about your darkness, and seeing the potential for murder in you. Then he’ll allow for a little partnership action.

“Stop trembling.”

You flinch.

That low timbre travels through all the nerve endings in your spine like an electric shock, jolting you ram-rod straight out of your curled up position close as you could get to the door of his new school vehicle.

In spite of his talking to you your lips remain sealed in a thin line as you glower out the window. At the bottom level of an otherwise uninhibited parking tower where Danny figured you could make the least trouble. Staring at nothing but white lines on the asphalt lit sparsely by dull yellowing lights.

Even now his voice still has heat pooling in your gut that makes you want to grind your teeth into a fine alabaster powder. The less pleasant queasy feeling in your stomach that accompanies that warmth isn’t much consolation.

Jed— Danny was full of possibilities, and not one of them was conventional or safe.

Really the only ‘good’ thing about tonight was that he wouldn’t have time to keep all his focus on you, to weigh you down with the force of it, because he had a target he planned on killing tonight and an op-ed that would need finishing right after.

Horrible though it may be, you’re glad you're not the center of his obsession right now. Pierce, his newest victim since you guys settled into town that he’s been dragging you along to watch for weeks, firmly held that position in your stead tonight.

He clears his throat. Reluctantly, you turn your head to watch him.

Cracking his knuckles, Danny gives you a long look, full brows furrowed. You give the thicket above his eyes more attention than you do the dark orbs themselves.

“Don’t do anything dumb, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for your response or stick around to try hammering in his point more, however, twitching fingers a clear sign of his being more eager for carnage than any type of lecturing.

He slips on the mask right before he leaves the car; the rest of him decked out only in civvies and hunting boots. The ghost mask is one you’ve gotten plenty familiar with in the past. Vividly, you can remember the sight of that mask hunting you down and then directly in your face as the news dubbed “Ghost Face” slit your then boyfriend’s throat and christened you in his spray of blood before Danny had done you the disservice of sparing your life.

It's hard to look away as your ex(?) makes his way from the car with the hood of his black hoodie up, leaving you sitting pretty and still struggling to hold back your trembling in the passenger seat. Left to do nothing but watch.

Or to call the cops once your sense finally daigns to come back to you.

He had seemed so certain last night that you wouldn’t, and you hate that you even have to wonder whether you’ll prove him right or if you’ll finally buck up, reactivate your stalling-like-shit morality, and call the cops on his pasty ass right now regardless of your general distrust of the police.

As Danny waltzes without a hitch across the parking lot to where Pierce’s car is bracketed by two thick concrete pillars on either side at the back corner of the lot, though, no part of you moves towards Danny’s burner phone where it rests in the cup holder beside you like a taunt.

Or an opportunity.

Your painted nails tap against the button to turn the window down, a light rhythmic clicking sounding through the silent car while your eyes stay transfixed to Danny. Danny, who might as well be invisible as he closes in on the car without incident just as Pierce is ducking down to get in.

The transition after that is well timed and impressive enough that your eyebrows raise in place of where you should be screaming your head off.

Heedless of good citizenship, your lips stay stubbornly shut as you watch Danny wait until the exact moment Pierce — still unaware of where the seasoned killer is crouched out of immediate sight by the passenger door — closes the driver’s door shut behind him to open the muscular man’s passenger door and slip inside like he belongs there too.

When your window slips down a crack you don’t even bother acting surprised, you just stop moving, hold your breath, and listen.

In the immediate seconds after Danny enters Pierce startles, his face contorting in disbelief, and then he has a knife through his sternum from one blink to the next.

A muffled scream, high and panicked and quickly cutoff, meets your ears for hardly a second before silence descends around you once again.

His expressions look stilted as they come to him, like he’s lagging, but Danny doesn’t give him the chance to do much but emote as his next three stabs come in quick succession.

Sternum, the joint of his shoulder when he tries to sit up better, somewhere besides his Adam's apple, his damn cheek; all leading up to the final blow where Danny’s blade glints against the lighting in the sports car before being buried to the hilt in Pierce’s eyeball.

Blood flies everywhere.

Danny’s just pushing out of the passenger’s seat to get more leverage, knocking the bottom of the hilt with the heel of his palm so that the knife goes even farther in, when the automated lights go out and plunge the inside of Pierce’s car into darkness.

This time you don’t hear anything.

Not a stray beep of the horn or the drag of soaked fingers over tempered class or a squeak from the slightly rocking cars’ joints.

Not even when the flash of his camera gives you a few seconds of discombobulating previews of the carnage he’s created does the silence break.

Nothing.

Not until Danny’s slipping back out of the car and closing the passenger door with a hardly notable click. In that brief moment the lights kick back on and the scene that greets you is even bloodier than when you saw it last.

Blood managed to spray a dripping arch in front of the driver’s seat window, the skin around Pierce’s eye socket protrudes as if a tiny bomb had been planted in it, and his eyeball dangles precariously from his head by whatever tendon lies behind it.

His throat is slit now too, not just stabbed. One continuous perforated mess that’s compromised the structural integrity of the muscled man’s neck so badly his head, where it’s trying its best to slip over the side of the headrest he’s propped up against, has slipped back far enough it creates the illusion of a gaping cavernous maw below his chin. Crimson and gurgling. Like he gave one last wide grin as he met his death.

You can barely imagine the amount of blood you’d be able to see up close…or the sheer force of how it would all smell. It makes your stomach clench and by the time the lights have shut back off and Danny’s easing behind the wheel beside you your eyes burn too.

Contrary to the mild sample you get of what the inside of Pierce’s car smells like, he's covered in less blood than you had expected him to be. Instead of that striking you with fear all you can think about is how much of a Danny Thing that is to manage.

Of course he’d fucking kill like he’s afraid of increasing his dry cleaning bill even when he’d been so hyped up he was trembling on the drive over; there was control behind all that strange unconventional bravado of his.

He slips off his mask.

All but a single dark smear across the stark white of the masked forehead bears no sign of his misdeeds.

“Don’t faint.”

That’s what he leads with.

No questioning the security of the contents of your stomach or how red your eyes have gotten. He just jumps directly back into conversation like you didn’t just witness him kill a man.

It unfreezes you though, and with a gasp of breath you’re talking before you can fully check yourself, “That doesn’t sound like a ‘me’ issue.”

“Oh?” Danny chuckles darkly. “I can make it a personal issue for you after the fact, I assure you.” He raises his brows in question, the quirk of his lips sharp, and you can’t help the way your saliva turns bitter in the face of it.

At your lack of comeback he lets himself pull out the camera in his pocket. That too is streaked only minimally crimson.

When it slips up and he points it at your face you’re not fast enough to give him your back. You’re gazing directly at him and probably looking utterly enamored in your shock.

The murderer — the man who seems utterly determined to drag you against your will across the country with him — heeding no mind to your displeasure, takes a few more shots before you catch yourself and shift out of the light shining in through the windshield.

Pictures already taken, though, Danny doesn’t bother with you, already flipping his camera around.

“Nice,” he murmurs, clicking through the photos. He glances up at you then, winks. “I think these might be better than the pictures I took with you the night we met.”

You're speaking before you can talk yourself out of it, tone sharp, “The night you tried to kill me?”

He pauses.

His fingers stutter for a second over silver buttons, his camera whirling, before he meets the fire in your gaze with his own inferno.

“Careful,” he murmurs. “Spit too much fire and you might burn yourself.”

For a while you hold his stare regardless of his warning. He kidnapped you, he didn’t get to force you to act like this was some kind of fun outing. It didn’t matter how avidly you had stared into Pierce’s car.

The burner in the cup holder still staring back at you — still unused — didn’t mean anything.

Part of you wants to break that damn camera. Maybe then he’d finally fucking cry about something, show some actual genuine emotion for once.

Fuck.

Letting out a harsh breath through your teeth, you turn away from him, hiding your clenched fists in between your legs.

It was best you didn’t provoke him and you knew that. The good thing about Danny, though, was that while he burned hot, he didn’t burn long.

And you were determined to work that in your favor any chance you got.

From the driver's seat you hear your companion relax and your shoulders slump.

They ache with the remnants of your tension.

“Sure,” you acquiesce, licking slowly over your cracked lips and looking back at him with a little less fire in your eyes. “Why then? Why all the stabs if you were just going to slit his…you know?”

“His. Throat,” Danny stresses. Low, short.

He works his gloves over his fingers with his teeth, stuffing the leather in his waistband near where you know the sheath for his tactical knife is strapped against his thigh behind the center console.

You duck your head, braids knocking forward, force your hands to relax, then begin to fiddle with the rosary beads hung low on your neck. A dower mirth lifts your brows; as if the god you didn’t even believe in could save you now.

And for all you knew this was one of Danny’s gifts that he’d stolen off some poor person's dead body, so what good juju it could’ve had was probably tainted anyway.

“Fine,” you mutter, voice stilted and rough. “Why do all that if you were gonna slit his throat anyway?”

Hands on the wheel Danny shrugs - shrugs!

“I like to slit their throats sometimes, it makes the scene more dramatic, you know? Plus, I wanted to get you as acquainted as I could so I drew it out a bit more. But I’ll admit I went a lot faster than I would’ve if I was in a more private space, that’s why I like killing them in their houses.” He turns to you fully, lifts his hand past the partition without a care for how you flinch, and moves some of your braids interwoven with your fluff of curls out of your face so he can bore his gaze directly into yours. The pad of his fingers are dewy against your umber skin, his touch tender only because of their feel. “Sometimes it’s fun when they fight, when I get to debase them in the one place they feel safe.”

You bite back the urge to grimace.

It figures that the one time you get a straight answer out of him is tonight.

“Oh,” you breathe, fingers stumbling over the beads you’re rolling between them, “I…guess that’s good to know.”

Danny smiles, it’s not fake but now that you know the truth it doesn’t sit right on his face either, before turning back to his camera.

At least, you supposed, you now had more of an idea as to how he’d dispose of you if you stopped being entertaining.

The memory of the glint of Danny’s knife in the light, its own omen, as he closed in on his victim’s car (the victim of his stalking, of his murder) flickers through your mind. Flashes of the dead man’s gaping flesh swiftly follow.

Would you like it when The Ghost Face finally claimed your soul too? Would his being through with you grant you damnation or not?

Silent, you watch him get situated once he’s finished looking over his cache for the evening. His profile stands out starkly against the tower lights behind him, reedy defined features and that blocky nose that once regularly held up glasses he didn’t need to see. He’s almost angel-pretty like this. Makes a pang strike through your chest at the remnants of before, of poking at him while he worked until he couldn’t help but indulge you and his numbing kisses and the dorky (curated) way he’d push up his glasses after laughing at something cute you’d done.

It was ridiculous, this war within you. Everything about Jed Olsen had been a lie and yet still the phantom of him intrinsic to Danny continues to have you yearning.

Still you can’t help but wonder if the stab of his knife through your dark sensitive flesh, the feel of his masked or barren eyes stripping you to tendon as he plunged past your ribcage, would feel like divinity.

Danny brushes the choppy fringe of bangs that line his forehead back, streaks blood through brunet strands, and still your heart’s desire remains. Would it be…better like this? If you stayed with him, let yourself be content with a knife in your hand and a far more familiar devil reigning at your side?

The car turns on and Danny starts driving you guys away from his newest crime scene, flicking the radio on as he goes. The dvd in his player spins and the moody tones of The Ire fill the heavy air between you both. Despite yourself you fall into Maya Brooks’ distorted vocals, letting your body sway and shift minutely in tandem with the music.

Danny’s eyes when he glances at you are dull — you’d say they were grim if you thought he had the ability to feel remorse, but his expression is unusually open. His gaze intent on the way you’re softly mouthing along to Derelict.

“We won’t stay west too long, okay, Honey?” His voice is dry, but the curl of his tongue around the pet name is like a verbal lash. “You just hold on and I’ll have you slitting throats up north before New Years. You’re gonna love it.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

I seem to only be able to write Danny once every year (not necessarily for a lack of trying, I’m a slow creator), but I really love exploring the horror and moral fuckery of these slasher romances so I had a great time writing this. And, yes, I did give Danny glasses as a part of his Jed ruse.

Ignore that I included a band that isn’t 90’s, I just really wanted to include The Ire idk (they’re described as goth/post-punk, but really I just wanted to talk about them a little). Plus the setting is nebulous anyway.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

Alt. Banner (scrapped) —

[bababahannah]

Has me absolutely giddy, such a good fic!!🥰💕

This might be random but could I request some Ghostface fluff? Like after a lot of tiring trials Ghostie just need some TLC from his confused favorite survivor (aka forced cuddling that turns soft?) Sorry I've been having a rough week and just need some TLC myself 😔 thank you so much if you decide to write this

I’m so sorry for doing this so late!I really hope you are feeling better and are having a much better week/month ! Hopefully this gives a bit of comfort to you <3333 much love. (:

Danny Johnson (Ghostface) x Reader

To say that trials have been rough for Danny, would be an understatement. It felt as though the entity had began to give survivors better tools or brighter flashlights that was made to make him feel like he was the victim in these trials.

He felt humiliated. Danny always prided in being one of the better killers in the realm. His stealth and gruesome methods of killing the survivors had branded him with a higher status. The entity had rewarded him many times, first with his camera then a few other awesome outfits that replicated his original Ghostface persona. He was it’s Golden boy.

So why the fuck was he beginning to lack? He never had this problem before. It was although the survivors were taken him less seriously. No longer fleeing whenever they saw him lurking around. It was irking him.

His ego was taking a big hit. The knife felt heavy in his pocket. No longer giving him the pleasure that he so desperately needed. His gloved hands were clenching and unclenching as he sat on the roof that was over a porch of the many homes that made up Haddonfield. His legs dangling over the edge as he stared off into the distance. Eyes set on the trees, roaming along the open spaces between each tree. Waiting.

After a few minutes of him running his hand through his hair and trying to rub the exhaustion off his face. He debated grabbing his mask and just leaving. But you finally appeared between the tree lines.

Your hesistant steps giving Danny some pleasure that he still had an unnerving presence. Even for someone like you, who had made their way into being one his favorites.

Well, his only favorite. Not that you needed to know.

He had made habit to tease you in and out of trials. Lurking in the woods whenever you would gain the courage, or stupidity, to break off from your group and venture alone. At first he thought he just wanted to kill you, having you to his own with no pressure of your teammates saving you in the way. But as time went on, the want to kill was there but it never occurred more than a fleeing thought. Stuck in the back of his mind.

He begin to enjoy your company. The way you would tense up when he got too close, or your glare when he said something that he knew would get under his skin.

He watched you walk in the middle of the street, eyes searching around the intimation of a neighborhood. Danny patiently waited for you to get closer until you allowed your eyes to roam up, catching his relaxed figure.

You stared at him before pushing yourself forward, disappearing under him onto the porch. About 20 seconds pass when he hears the window behind him sliding open. The thudding of your footsteps against the wooden roof following you as you came beside him.

You plopped down beside him, keeping a safe distance between the both of you and letting out a deep sigh.

“Glad you came to join me. Did you miss me?” He asks teasingly, watching your side profile. “And I thought I was the stalker.”

You roll your eyes at this. “Sure. It's not like you threatened me to meet you here. What was it that you said? That you’ll cut my tongue off in the next trial.”

You looked at him from the corner of your eye before leaning forward and placing your elbows on your thighs as you looked below you.

“You make it seem like you hate being around me.” Danny sighs sadly, leaning back against one of his hands as he watched you. “That’s a bit rude. Kids these days have no manners.”

“Oh shut up.” You laugh as you finally turn towards him. “Please don’t tell me you’re that old.”

“A lady never tells her age.” He smirks at your deadpan look, tilting his head as you begin to search his face. It was still a new development for him to be maskless around you. But a part of him felt..good about it. It’s been so long since someone really looked at him. With the way your eyes gazed over him, he wished he would have done it sooner.

Look at him becoming soft. Had the trials really messed with his head that bad? He tore his gaze away once you quirked an eyebrow.

“Bad trials?” You ask simply, gazing down at the forgotten mask beside him. Danny let out a scoff as he pulled a leg up from the edge, pressing a knee close to his chest.

“Me? A bad trial? Who do you think I am.” He snaps. The reminder of his errors had him frowning, remembering the anger and disappointment from before.

“Yeah come on. I saw the way Nea had you running around like a complete idiot.” You grin at the way his eye twitched. “I'm surprised you didn't get a concussion from all those pallet dropped on your head.”

“Shut your mouth.” He growls, the dangerous glint back in his eyes as he stared back at you. Your smile faltering at the familiarly of the first time you were face to face with him. You almost forgot that you were in the presence of a monster. “maybe I should make of my promise of cutting your tongue off.”

You push yourself up from your seat, keeping your expression from showing the fear that sparked from his threat. “Maybe you should. I don’t know why you even forced me out here if-”

Danny’s hand shot out, grabbing a hold onto your wrist. The tight grip pausing you from moving any further, your fingers clenching into a fist as you waited. He sighed, trying to push down his frustration as he pulled for you to sit down. “Okay. Just..wait.”

You stay silent as he seems to struggle with himself before you watch him lay back against the wooden panels of the roof. Before you can question what he was doing, his grip tightened as he pulled you back with him. Pulling a small “oof” as he position for you to face away from. Arms wrapping around your waist.

“Danny?” You choked out as your mind spun in confusion at the position. “What is happening.”

“Shut up for once.” He hisses as you feel, what you could guess is his forehead, press against your back. His chest was flushed against you, legs tangling between yours as he holds you close to him. You swallow around the protest that you were ready to shoot at him.

Fingers rubbed along your skin. The sensation on your sides sending sparks up your spine. Your body releasing the tension as you relaxed against his hold. You tried to ignore the panic that had your chest beating fast and focused on Danny’s breathing against you.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, with the wood being your only cushion. You had half the mind to wish he had chosen a bed to force this on you, but dismissed it quickly because that would definitely lead into more problems.

So you stayed in that position for a few minutes. Allowing Danny to hold you, both your hearts slowing down to a normal pace as the forever lasting night surrounded you both. You grew the courage to place your hands on top of his, slighting rubbing the knuckles. Danny hummed at that.

Your face flushed at the sound before you pushed yourself away, ignoring the protest he gave, and turned your body around to face him. His eyes were half opened as though he had begin to fall asleep. Strands of dark hair fanning over his dark eyes, that were watching you carefully.

You break the silence.

“Who knew The Ghostface was a huge cuddler?” You awkwardly smile. A beat passes before Danny replies with a playful scowl.

“I should really cut off that tongue of yours.” You giggle before sticking your tongue out, reeling your head back when gloved fingers playfully pretend to grab for it. Danny matches your lopsided grin with his own smile.

You bite your lip as you begin to think, reading his expression. He then remembers this was new terrority.

Danny’s about to say something, already pushing himself to a sitting position but you scoot closer. Placing your hand on his chest and pushing him down. Surprised eyes watch as you lean your head on his chest. Your left arm wrapping around his waist.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. The feeling of you, willingly, pressing against him and playing with the straps of his outfit, had his body feel as though it engulf in flames. He wasn’t blushing. No that would never happen.

Carefully, he places an arm around you, while the other is placed beneath his head. His hand falls on your waist, something he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of holding.

Even if he knew the moment was soon to be cut short by the entity’s greedy claws, he couldn’t help but allow himself to melt into the embrace. The moon that never disappeared watching over as you both enjoy the limited comfort that was rare in the realm.

[playgroundfadings]

Just imagine-

You went to school with Danny. Maybe dated for a while, until he just... left. Years later, you leave Utah and head for Roseville, Florida, for a new job opportunity.

You come face to face with a man you know all too well. But why is Danny, that one pessimiste, cynical boy, now acting like a goodie two shoes? Smiling with too many teeth, acting oh so lovingly with the people around?

And why did he change his name to Jed Olsen?

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Smutty Valentines: Day Twelve

Day twelve: Makeup Sex

Dbd! Ghostface x reader

Fem! Reader

Warnings: slight angst in the beginning, pre fog Jed Olsen, late 80s to early 90s Florida Era setting, reader has suspicions of him being the Roseville killer, mentions of cheating (not actually cheating), readers job is a dj while going through college. Piv sex, kinda toxic relationship, unprotected sex

Lying on your shared bed, you listened to the newest mix tape you made during your off time as a freelance dj. The upbeat sounds of the latest Florida Break mix did nothing to help you through how upset you were at your boyfriend.

You love your boyfriend Jed but lately he's been ditching dates with you, claiming that his newspaper job is to blame. What Jed didn't realize was that you didn't see his car parked at his job when he claimed he was at work the other day.

Thoughts flooded your mind, unsure if it was the florida heat affecting you or your nerves running into overdrive. Between the news spreading like wildfire about the Roseville killer and your own concerns about the state of your relationship, you're feeling a bit down moodwise.

The front door to your shared apartment moved slightly as the front door was unlocked. Jed looked rather exhausted as he drops his work folders onto the small table before grabbing him some water to drink. Sliding into the covers, you hoped he thinks you fell asleep while listening to music.

You didn't want to continue the argument that the both of you had before he went to work this morning and you went to class. As much as you love Jed, you also know that he can be hard to love and be with. He's an egotistical asshole, occasionally being the man you fell in love with.

"Doll, I know you're awake, you're shitty at luing."

You feel him enter the bed next to you. His left hand gently caresses your soft cheek while his right arm pulled your body closer to his. Giving up the facade, you opened your eyes to see his tired ones.

"I'm sorry that I have been a shitty boyfriend to you. The whole Roseville killer is keeping me tied at the office."

His lips kissed down the sensitive flesh of your neck as you let out a soft moan for him. Although you didn't believe his beautiful lies, you couldn't help but to melt to his warm touch. Your hands ran through his dark locks as he kissed down your jawline, towards your neck.

It was as if you were a fly trapped in Jed's web of lies and deceit. You know it's wrong but it gives you a thrill that no drug or alchohol can ever satisfy. His hands were quick with undressing you, his calloused hands ghosted over your soft skin.

The haziness of the lust building from Jed's touch trumped any common sense thoughts about ending the relationship. Your hands instinctively started stripping his clothes as he left hickies from your neck down to your breasts.

You were lost in your lust to noticed that the both of you were nude. Jed teased your slit with the tip of his cock before he entered you. A loud groan left your lips as you felt his member stretched your walls. After the amount of times the both of you had fucked, you still loved how he can still stretched your walls deliciously.

His thrusts picked up from somewhat slow and sensual to borderline animalistic as he used the sounds you make to thrust faster. His soft groans filled your ears as his hands moved your legs up, putting then around his shoulders. The new position made him hit your gspot immediately.

The familiar coil of arousal bubbles up deep inside you as the sounds of both of your moans filled the humid room. His deep breaths against you sweat claded skin, causing goosebumps to form on your arms.

Between the way Jed pistons himself into you and the sounds of pleasure filling your ears, you came around his cock. He kept on thrusting animalistically, chasing his own climax as he feels your over stimulated form shake underneath him.He came inside you shortly afterwards, collapsing over your body.

"Do you forgive me, doll?"

You noded slightly in-between heavy breaths. You relaxed your body as he pulled out of you, letting your legs stretch back onto your shared bed. Just like the last time the both of you had makeup sex, you accepted Jed's apology- cementing yourself into the same cycle you both loved and loathed.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚She

✧.* Pair - Danny Johnson! Ghostface x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Stalking, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation

✧.* Summary - Ghostface silently stalks a Y/N as she changes in her bedroom, the atmosphere tense with the looming threat of danger and lust.

✧.* Extra- She by tyler the creator LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

✧.* Word Count - 867

The atmosphere around Y/N's home felt different to her. Instead of feeling at home and relaxed, she felt uneasy and strained. There was some sort of chilling tension that she couldn't put her finger on. The worst part was it all came out of nowhere. She didn't want to assume the worst, like someone watching her, because she didn't want to manifest it in a way. A lot of the time, she didn't want to go home after work because of that uneasy feeling.

Sadly, not everything goes her way. After a tiring shift at work, she needed to get home. She needed to destress in her own home instead of somewhere else. A nice relaxing shower was on her mind the entire day. The feeling of warm water going down her back while she closed her eyes and imagined whatever she wanted sounded like the best idea to her. Especially in the cold fall weather.

When she got home, she immediately dropped her purse on the couch and went to the bathroom, completely ignoring the dark shadow-like presence at her window. She stripped from her clothes, got in, and stood there while the water fell from her body. She felt the weight fall off her shoulder. She forgot any and everything that happened at work that pissed her off or discouraged her. Minutes turned into almost 2 hours, she lost track until she realized the warm water was running cold.

She stepped out of the shower and dried off with a towel, mentally preparing herself for a quiet, and anti-stressful time in her room. Wrapping the towel around her body, she gathered her self-care products, unaware that a figure stood just outside her window, watching her through the small gap in the curtains. Y/N didn't know, but that was the reason she felt uneasy in her own home. The figure dressed in all black, with a white, ghost-like mask had been watching her for a full week. It watched her every move. Watched her cook, watched her skip through channels on her TV, watched her feed her pet, text her friends, watch sexually explicit videos, touch herself.

The public gave him the name "Ghostface." He was a ruthless killer who stalked his prey and waited until the right moment to strike. He had been torturing the small town of Roseville for quite a while. No one knew his identity, no one had seen his face, no one had even seen a small portion of his skin. He was well known to hide himself.

He had been watching his new prey closely and gathered enough information to finally strike, but for some odd reason, he wanted more. There was only one problem, he didn't know what he wanted "more" of. Did he want more personal information from Y/N? More insight into her social life? More ways to watch her? More ways to see her on a personal level? Maybe he should meet her face to face as "Jed Olsen." Maybe he should meet her face to face as Ghostface.

As Ghostface stood outside Y/N's bedroom window, he watched closely as she tossed her towel on her bed. Her naked body on display. In the back of his mind, he liked to think she was doing it for his attention, but she didn't even know he had been watching her. His eyes watched Y/N as she slathered lotion on her body, massaging certain parts of her body. Maybe that was the reason why he was postponing her death. Watching her body was becoming his hobby in such a short period.

The more he watched her, the more he thought about going in there to fuck her. He had thought of that ever since he first saw her naked. He wasn't ashamed of the tent that formed in his pants every time he watched her, whether she was naked or not. There were times when he relieved himself while watching her. His favorite moments were when she would be pleasuring herself.

He couldn't take his eyes off Y/N. His eyes went over every detail on her body. Every nevus, scar, stretchmark. He loved it all in a lustful, twisted way.

Y/N stood in front of her closet, ready to grab a nightgown for the night. As she reached for the dress, a small movement outside the window caught her eye. She fully turned to her window and saw a shadow standing just beyond the glass. Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly wrapped her towel around her body, the sudden chill of fear creeping up her spine. With shaky hands, she pulled back the curtain, her breath held, but there was nothing outside. She only saw the dark emptiness of the yard along with her small rose garden. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, though the unsettling feeling lingered, her pulse still racing.

Ghostface couldn't help but chuckle. He peaked out his head to see her silhouette disappear into her bathroom. He pulled out his phone, having her phone number on his screen to call. He couldn't wait to have fun with his favorite prey.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

If i feel like it i'll make a part 2 and im too lazy to check for spelling LOL I LOVE U GUYS

[yanderes-galore]

hii \(^ヮ^)/ your works are always a treat to read and since dead by daylight is on the list…

may I request some yandere hcs for pre-fog Danny Johnson (the Ghostface guy) with a coworker darling? Like someone with whom he worked at the Roseville Gazette. Maybe they both were often sent together to interview the families of victims? 

oh and btw, good luck with other requests (⁀ᗢ⁀)

Thank you! I've been having fun with them ^^ Hope you enjoy this request too! It's nice to write more pre-fog ones.

Yandere! Danny Johnson with Coworker! Darling

(Pre-Fog/Trial AU)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder/Death, Sadism, Teasing, Manipulation, Secret picture taking, Attempted kidnapping, Dubious/Forced relationship.

You most likely know Danny by his alias, Jed Olsen.

He's hopped around towns as to not get caught with his murders.

To you, he's just Jed Olsen, a fellow freelancer just trying to write shocking newspapers.

He's been described as modest and enthusiastic and has experience in many past newspapers.

You met him while working at Roseville Gazette and got along with him well.

You have no suspicions about him, in fact you see him as a friend.

You often share stories and sometimes ask him for help.

To keep a good image he helps you with a smile.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Danny is scoping for new victims for good stories.

He's a stalking and methodical killer in the dark while he's all nice and caring in the day.

By the time the murders start up you and Danny are close.

Soon he even begins to think he's fallen for you.

What a story, yeah?

The secret killer falling for the innocent reporter?

He honestly likes the sound of that.

You could be helping him to publish the stories he creates.

You have no idea but you're his partner in what he does.

What could be even better is if he began dating you as he conducts his work.

However, he isn't going to rush things.

Danny doesn't just stalk the potential victims of his stories, he likes to watch you.

He doesn't want to hurt you, he just likes to slip by where you live (once he finds the address) to check things over.

He likes to see your nightly routines and often takes pictures.

He is sure to remember the layout from your house and often sneaks in while you sleep.

It's a nice rest before he has to go back to work.

The whole time you are oblivious to his obsession and work.

Just like most of this town.

You still greet him with a smile, you still work on papers with him, you even offer to help interview the victim's families.

You have no clue that he's caused all this.

You have no idea he's been watching you too.

That's fine, Danny loves you clueless.

Honestly, he'll be happy if you just pay attention to him during the job.

What happens at night is a secret.

Well, a secret until this town catches onto him.

Once that happens he sadly has to rush things.

He's been making good progress with you and has been watching you at night for quite awhile.

About time he reveals the truth to you, yeah?

Imagine this;

A figure slips through your window ever so quietly.

He doesn't want to kill you, if anything he plans to take you with him as he moves to a new town.

He inches towards your room before entering, hovering over you as you rest.

When you stir you slightly open your eyes.

Only to see a silhouette.

Your eyes then shoot open upon seeing him, the figure in a ghostly cowl giving you a friendly wave.

"Hey there baby, it's me... missed me?"

As you try to run he restrains you in your bed, body sitting on top of you as he grins under the mask.

It's at this point he tells you who he is and his real name.

However, before he can take you away, fog fills the room.

Your scream rings in his ears, it's a pleasant sound to him...

However Danny feels rather upset when he wakes up in a new realm.

Where is he? Did he lose you?

Fortunately, Danny hears your voice and screams echo in the distance...

It's then he gives chase... all to look for his dearest in this newfound game.

[slashthrashandcrash]

It probably wouldn’t last long, but I’m imagining Danny whipping out his Jed Olsen persona to fuck with the survivors. Make them think he’s one of them before shoving a knife in their throats

OUGH I've actually talked about this kinda thing before with Blob in regards to the JedMeg AU but also imagine that this was how Danny got all his stalking intel from the survivors, by just putting on his stupid nice guy persona and walking to the campfire and the newest lowly survivor.

Sure, you may never see Jed and Ghostface in the same trial together, but there's a lot of survivors and a lot of killers which means there's hundreds of combos...plus, it's not like Jed doesn't get called for trails periodically. It's just that no one takes note of which side he's on when they're trying to avoid getting flayed on camera.

The Entity's gotta give her special guy a bit of enrichment now and then. This is his version of going to doggy day camp.