#mount ormond

[dbd-map-resource]

Ormond Compilation:

As requested by the friendly anon! This is for you. :3

Outside of the main building:

The forbidden inaccessible third floor tempts me....

Resort main hall:

Second floor and walkways:

Entrance (the part with the lockers and reception):

Misc outside stuff:

[fogposting]

Frank: I still don’t have a New Year’s resolution.

Susie: You could educate yourself some more.

Joey: You could be less lazy.

Julie: Don’t be such a bitch.

Frank: Okay DAMN, SHIT.

[strawberry-eden]

violence solves (most) problems — danny johnson x reader

↪ summary — you're relatively new in the fog, having been here just long enough to get a hold on the working order of this place when you catch the unfortunate eye of the most obsessive man on the planet, who decides that you're going to be his newest plaything.

or, your first encounter with the notorious ghostface killer goes very poorly.

↪ tags — canon typical violence, swearing, crack treated seriously, blood & injury, obsession at first sight, gender neutral pronouns/description for reader, no use of y/n, and danny's weird way of flirting

↪ word count — 2.4k

a/n: i wrote this originally way back in february but i found it again and figured i would share with the class. inspired by a cool piece of art i saw on twitter that ended up spiraling from there. enjoy!

The cold air of Mount Ormond ski resort bites angrily at your bare face, your shallow breaths manifesting in puffs of white fog as you fight to keep giant spidery talons from spearing through your torso. A low, guttural growl sounds from all around you and nowhere all at once, your arms shaking from effort as a particularly hard shove from the entity forces your hooked shoulder to shift, sending a ripple of white-hot agony through your body. “Fuck!”

This is your first match of the day. Not a single generator has been done and none of your teammates have been hooked yet. If anybody is coming for you, you can’t see through the cage the entity’s talons have created around you, itching to close in and take you back the campfire. You’re half tempted to let her do it.

You barely register the second pair of hands that appears and bats her away until they’re gently pulling you down from the hook by your armpits, holding you up until you’re steady on your feet. You blink away a few stray tears to look up at the face of your savior. “No offense, kiddo, but you look like shit,” says Bill.

You almost shrug instinctively but stop yourself last second. “A little bit taken. I feel like shit,” you mutter. He shoots a cautious glance over his shoulder, then takes you by the arm and leads you away from the hook towards a safer spot to patch you up. You can’t help but flit your gaze all around the area, searching for that haunting white mask or floating strips of leather, wondering if you’re being watched from somewhere.

Bill catches your paranoid expression and frowns. “Christ, what’d you do to him?”

Unable to hide your frustration, you round on Bill with an exasperated cry, “I don’t know! He just—” You make a vague gesture. “Set his eyes on me and decided he wanted me dead! I haven’t even touched a gen yet, for fuck’s sake.”

Bill pulls you behind a boulder secluded somewhere in a corner of the resort. You squint at the shape of the killer shack some ways away, trying to get your bearings. Bill whistles lowly. “Maybe he’s just trying to get an easy win, then. Lord knows it’s working. The rest of us are struggling to keep up.”

You collapse into a bloody pile into the snow, leaning against the rock and pressing a hand against your wounded shoulder while he pops open his medkit. “Yeah, well. I’m still pissed about it.”

“Oh, we all are,” he replies. “Nobody likes being down a teammate this early on. You got anything to help you out?”

Your face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

He raises a grayed eyebrow. “You know, like that trick David pulls to endure pain, or how that girl Laurie hides glass in her sleeves. They teach you any of that?”

“Uhh… No?”

Bill curses under his breath. “You’re kidding, right?” He curses again, louder this time when you shake your head. He digs into one of his many pockets, pulling out something that he clutches tightly in his palm, then motions for you to extend your hand. He places something smooth and warm into it, closing your fingers around the object. “Hide it well, okay? If he sees it, it’s game over. And make sure you don’t. Miss. That was my second chance, and I’m giving it up so you a better shot. If you end up fumbling, I’m never gonna let you live it down.”

Bill holds your gaze until you give a slow nod, retracting his hands as he returns to rustling around the supplies in his medkit. When you open up your fingers, you are greeted by your own reflection looking back at you from a small, sharp piece of glass. It’s almost shaped like a knife if you turn it right. “What do I do with it?” You ask curiously.

Bill wheezes out a laugh. “Stab him with it, obviously.” You bite back a painful hiss when he begins stitching your wounds back together, which he apologizes for under his breath. “But don’t just swing it around all willy-nilly, you gotta wait until he isn’t expecting it—like when he’s got you slung over his shoulder like a sack of meat thinking you’re gonna be an easy kill. Then, you take your opportunity to prove him wrong and stab it right into his shoulder. Always shocks ‘em so bad they drop you then and there. Gives 'em a taste of their own medicine, which they don’t like too much, y’know?”

You stare thoughtfully at the shard. If it’s such an effective tactic, then why in the world hasn’t anybody told you about it? You can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.

“Doesn’t always work, though,” he says, pulling the question straight from your mind. “After a while, they start to expect it, which means you gotta change it up. Start playing stealthier, like Zarina or Jake—the guy’s got an iron will. Real impressive. I have no idea he’s even hurt until I realize he’s left a streak of blood halfway across the map.”

This is all too much information to ingest when you feel about five seconds away from dying via blood loss. “Got it,” you mumble breathlessly.

Bill blanks at you. “You didn’t retain a thing I just said.”

"I got all the important parts."

“Sure you did,” he huffs. He starts opening up some gauze, when all of a sudden, his head shoots up and his whole body goes rigid. Bill’s wide eyes find your alarmed ones, and all that he’s able to get out before all hell breaks loose is, “Run.”

There’s an almost imperceptible rustle of clothing that doesn’t reach your ears. You’re frozen in place, barely given enough time to register the command as you watch him jump to his feet. “What?”

“God damnit, kid, I said run—!”

“There you are,” a third voice purrs, and you barely get a glimpse of the knife that glints maliciously at you just before it’s buried in Bill’s back. The hoarse scream that’s torn from the older man’s throat echoes hauntingly in your ears as it digs in deeper, forcing him against the ground. Dark red splatters across the snow when Ghostface violently wrenches it out of him.

Your shoulder cries out as you feebly scramble backwards, every little cut and bruise on your body flaring in pain as you awkwardly clamber back to your feet. Ghostface steps clean over Bill, who groans in pain on the ground, and the shard in your sweaty hand suddenly feels a thousand times heavier.

You can hear the simper in his voice when he says, “You didn’t forget about little old me, did you?” He wraps his gloved fingers around the bloody knife, wiping it clean with one swipe. “Oh, darling, I’m hurt.”

You’re running before you even know it. The cold air stings your lungs with each intake, your muscles burning with every step. You don't have a clue where you’re headed until you’re tearing through the killer shack, narrowly avoiding crashing into the generator that sits in the middle. You don’t need to look to know that he’s right behind you if the sounds of crunching snow and throaty laughter are anything to go by, and when your bare fingers find the splintered slab of wood sitting against the doorway, you waste no time throwing it down behind you.

You stop and turn to shout obscenities towards your assailant, but he’s nowhere to be found. You blink, and a knife is suddenly jammed between your ribs. “You should really look behind you sometimes,” Ghostface says coolly, pressing the blade deeper in emphasis and relishing in the way you whimper in pain. “Maybe you would have actually seen me go around the side of shack. Kind of embarrassing to fall for that, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

He tsks, ripping the knife out of your side and effectively taking away the only thing keeping you upright, letting you fall to the ground in a bloody heap. You look up at him through hazy eyes, looking like a dark mist against the pale gray sky, the screaming white mask being the only thing to come into focus. “You know, I don’t usually do this—”

You watch as one of his hands dives underneath his cloak, searching around for something for a solid five seconds until he pulls out a small handheld camera with a muted A-ha!

“—but I like you, so I’m willing to make an exception.”

“An exception?" You spit out a wad of blood and saliva. "What the hell are you—”

The air is unceremoniously knocked out of your lungs when he plops himself down on your stomach, knees caging you in and pinning your hands against the snow. You flinch when the glass shard hidden in your sleeve pinches the skin of your wrist.

Gloved fingers firmly grip your jaw and force you to turn toward the camera lens as he leans in close, the scent of cheap cologne assaulting your senses and filling up your head. You swear the smell alone would kill you before he ever could.

“Smile,” he breathes into your ear, and you’re blinded by the flash that goes off when he clicks the camera. You’re busy recoiling in the aftermath while he gazes quietly at the picture in the viewfinder, blinking away the green and purple splotches in your vision. Still gripping your jaw, he forcefully turns your head to show it to you.

The picture looks about exactly how you’d expect it to turn out. You're staring wide-eyed at the camera in shock and fear, blood seeping from your various wounds and soaking into your clothes. His mask takes up the entire left side of the photo, but if you look hard enough, you think you can spot a pair of dark eyes staring into the lens—they’re squinted at the edges, like he’s actually smiling underneath it as he casually holds up a peace sign.

"Say, you weren't a model or anything before this, were you? 'Cause damn." He lets out a low whistle. "This one’s definitely going in my collection.”

He takes one last, long look at the picture before tucking the camera back into his coat and stands, allowing the blood to resume flowing through the veins in both of your arms again as they’re overcome by that numb, prickly feeling. Too hurt and exhausted to resist, you limply allow him to maneuver you into a sitting position, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he effortlessly hauls you up onto his shoulder.

"Alright, playtime's over," he huffs. "Duty calls, blah blah blah, you know how it is. Ain't no rest for the wicked."

Something smooth and sharp slides into your palm from the depths of your sleeve. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in it’s surface, you let out a gasp that Ghostface assumes must be from the sight of the giant meat hook that appears at the corner of the shack, because he gently pats the backs of your thighs in what you assume is meant to be reassurance.

"Now, don't you worry, sweet-pea," he says, “the next time you and I get matched up, I promise I’ll play nice. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you escape, yeah?” He laughs, and you can feel it vibrating through your ribcage. “After I kill your friends, of course.”

You grip the glass so tight in your palm, it digs into your fingers, drawing blood. You see your own eyes staring back at you through a thin stream of red, wild and angry and terrified, Bill’s words bouncing around in your skull as you raise the shard and slam it hard into the back of his shoulder, digging in viciously and twisting.

He inhales sharply, hands immediately losing their grip on you as he drops down to one knee, letting you slide off of his shoulder and land face-first in the snow. You push yourself up to your hands and knees, then to your feet, and glance nervously over your shoulder.

You meet those same eyes that had peered gleefully at you in the picture, no longer hiding behind that wretched mask as it lays by your feet in the snow, but they’re not squinting like they were before. They’re wide, pupils shrunken into tiny pinpricks as they bore into you, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a grimace as he reaches behind him and rips out the glass. Blood sprays from the wound in an arc, a fury so deep and animalistic roiling in his guttural tone as he ...

... Laughs.

Something dangerous glitters within his irises as he turns to face you. What catches you most off-guard, though, is that he's actually handsome underneath the mask—he's younger than you thought, with long lashes and full lips. A tiny scar marks the corner of his mouth, and it stretches slightly as he bares his teeth in a wide, manic grin.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He drops the glass shard and stands, and you're screaming at your body to move, but you can't. You just watch as he slowly reaches out to collect his mask and knife, refusing to take his eyes off of you even once. It's like it's just his gaze keeping you pinned. "The gift that keeps on giving?"

A loud buzzer sounds from somewhere in the distance. You flick your gaze away for just a moment to check which direction it came from, and by the time you look back, he's already secured the mask back in place.

"I'll tell you what," he begins, tilting his head at you curiously. "Let's make a bet. If you can last until your friends get alll the gens done, I'll let you go."

You swallow thickly. "And if I can't?"

Silence. You don't need to see his face to know that he's smiling. "You wanna find out?"

Strangely enough, a part of you almost does.

He lunges then, but you’re already on the move, adrenaline as well as an odd cocktail blend of terror and exhilaration pushing your body past its limits in a last-ditch effort at escaping this trial with your life.

You probably won’t, but you’re definitely gonna give him a run for his money—you figure that you've earned at least that much.

[macabr3-barbi3]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL

We'll have a masterlist for everyone soon but AHHH I'm so excited! I'm so proud of everyone and so glad to have some new people join us in the server, everyone has done such a fantastic job and it was so cool to see everyone work through their ideas 💗

A huge thank you to my beloved @fraugwinska for planning and organizing this event with me and making us so many amazing graphics, and encouraging me when I hit a wall. And thank you to everyone who participated and has posted or will be posting soon! I love all of you 🩷 @redvexillum @ritualofcirice @chefskjssart @dewdropdinosaur @lumikello24 @xalygatorx @melodyonthewireless @kewpikayo @jurijyuu ❤️

For the fic that started the brainworms squirming, come check out Hex: Smile Like You Mean It!

Summary: Someone has noticed you noticing them. Tags: video-game typical violence, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, off-screen character deaths

He was watching you. Always watching you. 

Well- to be fair, he was always watching everyone. You knew when he was the trial's designated killer because you would catch the glint of a red light in the trees, a glare off the lens of a camera that watched you from the corner as you tried to work on a generator as stealthily as possible. Before you even had a chance to wipe the grease of the gears off your fingers he would be on you with a spark of electricity, razor sharp claws raking down your back or arm as you tried to get away with his distinct laugh ringing in your ears.

The other killers could be mindless- chasing you around the same rock or set of trees for minutes at a time while the others popped off generators left and right, absent obsession fueling their pursuit of you like they didn’t realize you were merely buying time for your friends. 

Vox was just as ruthless, but worse- he was smart. Cunning. Somehow he always knew which corner you were going to turn, which windows you were going to try and vault through, and despite your best efforts you could never get him close enough to a pallet to slam it on his head and bust that screen of his wide open. You had managed it one time, relishing in the satisfying crunch of shattered glass as he swore and you darted away.

Only for him to find you while you healed yourself and drop you onto a hook anyway, his smirk taunting and cruel before chasing your teammates away when they tried to rescue you.

And despite it all, you felt drawn to him. Not drawn enough to actively seek him out in a trial, but sometimes you would watch from the sidelines as he chased the others, follow his meandering path around the lodge at Mount Ormond from the balcony on the second floor. At first it was a macabre fascination- where had he come from? What had brought him here? How much of him was really a machine? Your curiosity regarding his body warped over time to a keen interest, and before you knew it the purpose of your eyes on him had changed- no longer just watching him to see where he carried your teammates off to but appreciating the way his muscles flexed and moved beneath his clothing, admiring the delicate lines of his claw tipped fingers when he grabbed the edges of a window to chase after someone.

This was why you felt you were different from his surveillance of everyone else- you knew he could see you when you did this, watching him the same way he watched you through the cameras, and he never altered his course when you engaged in this behavior. It was only when you were working on generators, healing your friends, doing the things that needed to be done in order to survive, that he would spring forth from the cameras and start slashing and taunting.

The first time you had felt that flash of heat through your core watching him lick a stray drop of your blood from his claws after he threw you on a hook, you had been so ashamed you didn’t even bother trying to keep the Entity’s claws from coming down for you, your teammates too far away to help anyway. It got easier to live with though, something new and dangerously exciting when you looked at him and imagined the way his body looked under his clothes, wondered how calloused his fingertips were and how they would feel dragging across your skin with the intention of pleasure rather than pain.

Almost like a punishment for daring to feel something other than fear and despair when you looked at him, the Entity wasn’t kind enough to give you chances to observe Vox all that often; time didn’t really exist in this realm, but it felt like you had been in back to back to back matches for days, only at the campfire long enough for your wounds from Pyramid Head in the Swamp to be reset before you were being whisked away to be locked into a head cage by the Pig at the meat plant. It was never ending, constant torture that had you exhausted, moving slowly and always fumbling on the generators; which in turn had your teammates upset with you, and they would leave you to bleed out on the ground or struggle on the hooks while the rest of them worked away at the generators all the way across the map.

This time, when you landed in Haddonfield and everyone took off without you, you opted to just stay out of sight- you would hide in lockers, maybe hole up in a car and just rest until the others had finished the generators or gotten themselves killed, depending on who the killer was. Then you could make your way to a gate or try to find the hatch as long as they didn’t find you first.

You hear Yun-Jin start a generator near you and sneak off in the other direction; a smart choice, since your heartbeat picks up not even a full fifteen seconds later, Yun-Jin’s scream echoing with the sound of Vox’s laughter as he tosses her onto the hook. 

You peek over the rock that you hide behind as he turns, brushing dirt off his suit and straightening his bowtie- when he looks up he locks eyes with you across the field, flashing you a wide, sharp-toothed smile before he zaps into the nearby camera and is gone, another scream from David sounding off shortly after.

Your heart is still, so you take the risk and head towards Yun-Jin crouched low to the ground, just in case he’s watching. Your arms shake as you help her down, and she doesn’t say anything before she’s rushing off, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. You sigh and kick at a rock on the ground, debating if you should follow her and offer assistance.

“Damn, not even a thank you? And you all think I’m brutal.”

You stumble to the ground in your haste to turn around, but he doesn’t rush at you- just watches, like he watches through the cameras, like he watches you watch him. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he scoffs. “I’m not here for you, doll- not yet.” He drops to a crouch in front of you, his screen so close you can feel the static on the screen making your hair raise; he brings his fingers up from the ground, wet and red with Yun-Jin’s blood. His face changes, pulling up a surveillance feed; you can see Yun-Jin in one little square, desperately trying to heal herself without assistance; David and Ace work on a generator in the basement of one of the buildings, not even glancing at the cameras that hold them in their glass stare. You’re half expecting him to spring suddenly, luring you into a false sense of safety, but it doesn’t come- a little cursor comes across the screen and clicks on the staticky image of the men and he’s gone.

You’re not going to assume he would let you escape twice, so you creep into one of the houses and find a locker in a room that didn’t appear to have any cameras. You should feel bad, you think, about simply hiding while the others tried to do what needed to be done to escape; but Yun-Jin hadn’t even said ‘thanks’ for risking your ass to pull her off the hook, and most of the other survivors never bothered to help you either since your exhaustion had started to get the best of your normally nimble fingers. A couple were reliable- Adam, Jane, and Claudette could usually be counted on to help get you out of a sticky situation- but these three in particular that you were facing Vox with? They could help themselves.  

The others are too far away to hear them scream, but the two booms that ripple across the map when two of your teammates are sacrificed to the Entity can be heard from anywhere. There’s a scuffle outside the house and David stumbles in, bleeding from a deep gash in his back- a crackle of electricity and Vox is right after him, another swipe of those sharp claws dropping him to the floor. Vox peers at the locker in front of him- like he can see you through the slats, he winks before he picks David up and leaves the room to find a hook.

You should run. Flee the locker before he came back, your heart kicking into overdrive as the final sound rings out that tells you David is gone.

You don’t get a chance. The door to the locker is yanked open, and there stands Vox, his arms resting on the top of the opening and leaning in so that he’s all you can see, so you can’t escape. “Looks like you’re our lucky winner!” He says cheerfully, sounds like an old-timey game show sounding off from his screen, and he reaches into the locker to grab your arm. “How handy- I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, my dear. Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”

Connected as you are, when he flashes into the camera you’re pulled with him- left with a feeling not unlike laughing gas at the dentist when you’re deposited into the living room of one of the houses. “Have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the couch before you as you wobble on your feet. When you turn jerkily, only half a thought in your head saying to run, his grip on your arm tightens; he turns you to face him, other hand coming up to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “Sit down.” He says firmly this time, and the red of his eye is swirling with black lines that seem to say trust me trust me trust me.

You sit, and Vox looks surprised. “Fuck, I didn’t think that would work,” he laughs. “That’s good to know.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before he drags the nearby armchair to sit in front of you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees while you watch one another. “Something to try in a trial sometime, maybe-”

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask, and he laughs loud and fake in the overwhelming silence of the room.

“I’m just trying to have a conversation! I gotta tell ya, I was having a lot of fun chasing you and your friends around but it was starting to get a little stale- and then there you are!” He gives you a wide smile, the sharpness of his teeth glinting in the low light of the house. “Always looking at me from behind trees and shit while I hunt down your teammates, watching me from the balconies and through windows- I know all about surveillance but it’s enough to make a man blush, sweetheart.”

His words make you blush- you had figured that he knew about you watching him, but not that he had picked up on your… interest. You try to stammer out a rebuttal and he laughs, waving you down with a mischievous look in his eyes. “None of that denial,” he chides. “I’m not here to judge; I’m quite flattered.” He winks at you again, the swirl of his eye lazy but not compelling you in any way, merely holding you in its gaze. “And that brings me here with a proposition! Mutually beneficial to the both of us, I can assure you.”

“What… do you want?” You ask cautiously, and his smile turns wicked, red drool dripping from the corners of his mouth.

He shocks you by stripping off the vest he wears over his white shirt, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’m a performer at heart, doll- the nature of a man in news means I love an audience, and an audience of one can be exciting in the right context.” He leans back into the armchair and pops a few buttons on his shirt, running his hands down his chest to the belt buckle that rests at the center of his waistband. “I want you to do what you’ve been doing so well lately- watch me.”

His belt clinks as he undoes the buckle, and your mouth runs dry. He teases electric blue claws against the zipper, a growing bulge under the seam that’s obvious to your eyes in the dim light of his screen. “What’s. What’s the mutually beneficial part here?” You ask, only stammering a little, and he chuckles low and dark.

“Depends,” he murmurs, “do you think the ‘show’ is your good part or mine?” He brushes his fingers against the outline of his cock, having hardened further under your watchful gaze, and a groan crackles out of his throat, staticky and harsh.

“It could be both,” you say absently, watching him finally draw the zipper down- the glowing that comes from his lap should be off-putting, but it’s not. You clench your thighs together, resisting the urge to rub them for some attempt at friction when his hand dips inside of his slacks and pulls his length out; hard, leaking from the tip until he swipes a dark blue thumb over it which a moan, a soft neon glow that seems to come from somewhere inside.

“It’s actually meant to be yours,” he says, “which means you’re kinda leaving me hanging here, sugar.” He stretches a leg across the expanse between your chair, knocking his foot against your feet to move them to the sides, the sweatpants you wear stretching tight across your lap as he essentially kicks your legs apart. “We should both be getting something out of this.” 

You catch his meaning, only hesitating for a moment before shifting enough on the couch that you can start shimmying your pants down past your knees. 

“Gimme a real show, doll,” he whispers roughly, dragging his fist up and down his cock slowly. “Let me see you.” His other hand finishes unbuttoning his shirt, the skin that he exposes a deep navy, littered with scars that only serve to draw your attention more fully to him. His claws tease over a glowing nipple- was that a USB port? - and the action causes sparks that rain down his abdomen.

You keep your gaze on him as you brush lightly against your clit through your panties, the shock of pleasure making your hips jerk. You apply more pressure, a swift circling around the sensitive nerves, and a moan breaks free of the barrier of your lips. Vox meets it with one of his own, the fist around his cock stroking earnestly, the fingers of his free hand trailing up and down his body, coming down to cup and squeeze his balls while he watches you.

“Fuck me, that’s fucking sexy,” he growls, his voice like gravel- his eyes are narrowed in between your legs like a man possessed, the intensity of his gaze like fire, like lightning. Your entire body is flushed, dripping with sweat when you copy him and let your free hand cup your breasts, tease the nipples through your thin shirt. “You like having eyes on you, sweetheart? Pull those little panties aside, show me what you like.”

You do as he asks, pulling the gusset of your soaked blue panties to the side and trailing a finger through the slickness of your folds. Your breath leaves you in shaky gasps as you press a digit inside, the angle not quite right for hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. It had been so long since you had indulged in a little self pleasure, certainly at least before you had been swept up in the fog and taken to the entity’s realm; even with the thoughts you had had about this man you had never gone so far as actually touching yourself with the lack of privacy around the campfire and in the trials. The touch alone was good, but to have Vox watching you so closely, the wet sounds of him stroking his cock mingling in the air with those that came from your fingers pressing desperately into your cunt, a second joining the first too soon, was burning bliss that raced through your veins. 

His tongue hangs from his mouth, drool dangling obscenely from the end of it; he leans forward enough that it drips over his prick, the added wetness making everything so much louder as his rhythm sped up. “Come on, sweetness, fuck that pretty pussy for me,” he pants, his eyes glued to where your fingers begin thrusting into yourself, the drip of your arousal leaking from your stretched entrance. “Nice and loud so the camera picks it up.”

Your eyes dart to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room that the two of you had come jolting out of, the lens wide and glaring and pointed right at you. “You’re recording?” You ask breathlessly, hot desire flashing through you at the idea of him coming back to this moment between trials, looking at a playback of you fucking yourself on your fingers like a whore just because he told you, because he wanted to watch you do it. 

“She won’t let us stay here forever,” he says, a harsh grunt tearing free of his throat as his strokes pick up speed, slick, rhythmic sounds that echo in your ear and make your head slow and fuzzy. As he says it, the whole realm seems to creak and groan and shift, like reaffirming that the Entity was displeased with how you were using her little world of chaos. “Just getting a little something to tide me over til next time.”

Next time. A moan slips from between your lips, letting yourself lean back further against the cushions so you can angle your fingers correctly to brush against the textured spot of sensitive tissue inside. “What’s the plan for next time?” You inquire, watching his fingers glide effortlessly over the illuminated flesh of his cock- he seems to harden further at your words, leaking from the tip in a way that makes your mouth water. With any luck, your next encounter would involve actually getting to touch him; to feel all that hard flesh under your hands, raking divots into his skin, tasting the salty musk of his precum on your tongue before sinking into his lap. Your cunt flutters uselessly around your fingers, pleasurable but not enough when you think about being stuffed full with the promising erection that Vox held in his fist.

“Once I get rid of your little friends,” he says in a stage whisper, “I’m going to d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟t̴͕͖͓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚��̚y̯̤͑́́̓́ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈.” His hand flies in slick strokes over his cock as he races towards completion, the pixels of his eyes not even blinking as he watches you desperately try to shove your fingers further, reach as deep as you knew he would. The corruption of his voice, like his internal system was at its very limits, makes you clench hard around your fingers, arousal burning in every bit of skin that was under his gaze. “Bend you over the closest surface and fuck you stupid- make sure every time you catch a glimpse of my cameras you remember being stretched around my prick and b͔͔̳͈̊̆ͥ͂͜͝ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ m̰̰̹͚̙̂ͦ͗͠ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ to cum.”

Your legs tremble, muscles tensing as your orgasm barrels closer. “Oh God,” you moan, so close that every part of you aches with the need for release- your head thrashes against the cushions of the couch, nerves overstimulated and raw and eyes locked on where his thumb brushed against his head, the entire length twitching in his grip as he watches you in turn.

“Or maybe I’ll let them live and fill up that sweet mouth first,” he grunts, “see if your muscle memory is good enough to do a generator while I fuck your face- better not fuck it up unless you want your teammates to see you g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ for a killer’s cock-” Static flashes across his screen, a sudden snowstorm that glitches his face out before he lurches forward, his free hand gouging deep gashes into the arm of the couch you lay across. “F̵̦̺͕́̐͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈c̷̹͖͋́̃k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟, g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ c̷̹͖͋́̃û̶͙̽̿͆̈m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡--”

The camera in the corner goes dark as he spills over his fingers, the glow lightly flashing up the length of his shaft with every pulse into his hand- his release splashes across your bared skin, hot and thick, a deep, dark flash of arousal through your core at the sensation. You’re a hair trigger away from your own orgasm when he pulls his claws from the couch arm and stills your hands. The burning pleasure cools, frustration taking its place at his interruption until you see his face has come back, his eyes dark and drool dripping from the edges of his razor sharp teeth.

“Open those lips for me, sugar,” he says softly, and you do so with no hesitation; his claws slip between your lips and over your tongue, the salty, musky taste of his cum overwhelming your senses. You try in vain to get your fingers moving again, Vox’s hand squeezing lightly to deter the attempted movements. “Suck,” he says darkly, his left eye glowing red and swirling, but you’d have done it even without the compulsion that weaved through your mind, so desperate for whatever pleasure he could give you that you’d do whatever he asked. 

You apply the suction he’s requested, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your tongue between his fingers, licking every drop of his release that you can find. He keeps those fingers in your mouth and uses his other hand to knock yours away from your pussy, careful with his claws as he tears your soaked panties from your body and swipes his fingers through the slick of your arousal. You moan around his fingers when he slides a digit into you, long and strong and immediately putting pressure right where you need it, where you couldn’t properly reach before. “That’s fucking right,” he growls, and the gravel in his voice has your cunt clamping down on him when he pushes another finger in, thrusting fast and hard- the coil in your abdomen tenses, drool and humiliating noises escaping through your parted lips as he drags you to the edge. “Go on, baby, fucking s̩͙͖̋͛͟c̷̹͖͋́̃r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ f̷̵̫̞̉͢ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊…”

Your orgasm rips through you like a hook to the shoulder, every muscle clenching hard, your soft inner walls fluttering as Vox’s hand is drenched. Your veins are alight with electric pleasure that’s prolonged with every additional push of his fingers fucking in and out of you, his thumb coming up to brush insistently at your clit. The added sensation toes the line of too much, the pleasure almost painful as he works you straight through one orgasm to another, his eyes- and the camera- never leaving your body as it seizes up again, Vox’s presence finally leaving your mouth so you can whimper and cry his name loud enough to echo in the empty house.

When he finally withdraws from the clutch of your pussy, his fingers are soaked and dripping with your release- he brings them to his mouth, long tongue darting out to lick you from his skin. He slides a hand under your head and tilts your face to the corner of the room. “Smile pretty for the camera,” he says, letting his tongue trail around the shell of your ear, and you feel a fucked out grin steal across your features before he lets you collapse into the cushions again.

Everything is pleasant and fuzzy- your body still tingles from the aftershocks of two vigorous orgasms, and Vox’s arms are strong and muscular under your back as he lifts you. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and he’s repositioning you to rest against his shoulder, standing and lifting you from the couch with ease. “Fuck, I knew you’d be good for me. Stay just like that, yeah?” He makes his way through the house, and as you walk you can hear the hum of the hatch- it seemed like now that you had both finished, he was going to let you escape…

But your eyes open when the hum of the hatch fades, Vox’s grip still strong on your waist as he also bypasses the exit gate. “Um- Vox?” You crane your neck to see him striding purposefully towards the hook in the middle of the road, the Entity’s claws already poised and ready above it. 

Panic overrides the soft pliancy that had taken over your body, immediately struggling against the firm hold that he had on you- but you’d never managed to successfully wiggle free of him in any trial. “Don’t be like that,” he chides you, your movement at least pulling him a little off course. “It’s nothing personal, doll- we had a good time together but at the end of the day, business is business! Gotta answer to the lady upstairs- don’t hold it against me next time.” He passes by a pallet, and in a surge of desperation you reach for it- your fingers just manage to catch it, pulling hard so it slams into his body, a solid sound that echoes in the empty realm.

It’s enough- just barely, but it’s enough. His grip loosens and you drop from his shoulder, and you take the brief moment of his confusion to slam his head down hard into the wood. It breaks under the force of him, the sound of shattering glass and cursing filling your ears before you dart away on shaky legs, not waiting to see the aftermath.

The hatch isn’t far away, and you see him stand from where you had slammed him down- cobweb fractures span across his face, and his eyes are fractured and angry in every piece of broken glass visible. “It’s nothing personal,” you call to him, and you can see the pieces of his expression glitch out- whether it’s shock, anger, admiration, you can’t tell, but you aren’t going to take the time to figure it out. “Don’t hold it against me next time!” You drop into the darkness of the hatch, his frustrated scream echoing in your head as he fades from view.

[vikkirosko]

🗻 Frank Morrison x Reader headcanons A secret hideout 🔪

Frank was well aware that there were parents who were cruel to their children. He assumed that you grew up in exactly such a family, but these were just his assumptions, which did not have any significant evidence. At least until you started dating. He saw the bruises your parents left on your skin and he didn't like it. He could feel the anger boiling in his blood, but there was something he had to do. He was supposed to protect you from them, and to do that, you had to find a place where your parents couldn't find you

After several days of thought, he decided to make a secret hideout for you, which only you, he and his friends, whom he trusted, will know about. Frank came to you at night, waking you up, and quietly suggested that you leave the house, saying that he had found a place where you could live and you wouldn't have to put up with your parents. You hurriedly ran away from your house, taking with you a few things without which you would have had a hard time. The next day, he heard about how your parents were looking for you, but they didn't seem too upset about your disappearance. Frank bought groceries and came back to you at Mount Ormond Resort. It was there that he prepared a shelter for you, where you could finally feel at ease

He had prepared one of the rooms that was the most intact, and now this room was yours. Now you needed to dress warmer, but Frank was always ready to hug you so that you wouldn't feel so cold. Often, you were accompanied not only by Frank, but also by others. Susie supported you and lifted your mood, Julie swore at your parents and tried to encourage Frank to take revenge on them for you, and Joey just took care of you, knowing that you needed it. Frank knew they wouldn't hurt you, so you were an unspoken member of their gang and the keeper of their base

He understood that if he attacked your parents, you would be angry about it. Although you didn't have strong warm feelings for them, but you didn't want him to get his hands dirty with blood because of you, so he decided to stop at a small one, and when they weren't at home, he and his friends staged a pogrom in their house and took away some of your things that you hadn't taken before. You grinned at your happy boyfriend, who brought a box of your things, and then kissed him on the cheek as a sign of gratitude, preferring to ignore the fact that they broke into your house and you strongly doubted that they went there just to pick up your things

Frank understood that you would hardly agree to break the law with him, but he was going to be there for you no matter what. You were someone he truly loved and he was willing to go to great lengths for you. You were the one who kept him from breaking bad, you were the one who took care of him and he returned the favor. You were the one he came back to even on the worst day and next to whom he felt his anger calm down

[d34dg1rl5]

Corpse Bride

It's icy in Mount Ormond. Quietly you make your way across the snowy paths and reach the ski lodge. The legions domain.

From inside the house you could hear chatter and music. Sounds like they're having a good time. Maybe you were just a nuisance to them? Yes, they were your friends and yes, they care about you. But maybe they don't always want to deal with your problems and fears.

Just as you turned around Susie spots you. "(Y/n!) What are you doing out here? Come join us!" She grabs your hand and pulls you inside. Julie waves at you and Joey greets you with a "'Sup." Frank quickly puts back on his mask crossing his arms. "You look like shit."

You sigh and sit down enjoying the warmth emerging from the furnace. "It's just been a rough trial... Nea kept stunning me with pallets and I think I'm gonna have a bruise.."

Susie looks at you with sympathy. "Aww, poor you... I know excactly what it feels like... Don't we all?" She looks at her friends and earns Julies agreement. "Yeah, some survivors really are a pain in the ass.. Especially Nea and Feng." She takes a piece of the pizza laying in front of her.

Joey agrees aswell and talks about his experiences with toxic survivors.

Something seems weird about Frank today... He isn't his usual cocky and snarky self. He gives you glances from time to time, even though you can't see his face you can feel his eyes on you.

You look at the others. "I think I'll head back to my realm... I feel ... Weird." Susie looks at you. "Aww, already? Alright then, do you want me to walk you back?" You shake your head. "Aw, no, you don't need to." Susie nods and gets up to hug you. "Alright then, see you!"

Youwalk out the lodge and sigh looking around walking back in your realm. Suddenly you get the feeling of someone following you. You turn around taking out your knife. "Who goes there!?"

"Jeez, calm down... Pussy." You hear a familiar voice say and a snarky chuckle. "You're a killer, you shouldn't be afraid of shit in here." Frank steps out from the darkness and looks at you. "What are you doing here?", tilting your head in confusion. "Walking you home I guess."

He takes out a cigarette of his pocket and lights it. Hiw does he even have that stuff in the realm? Maybe he asked the Entity for it.. He notices you eyeing the cigarette. "Want one?" Thinking about it for a second you nod.

"Yeah, gimme one." He hands you one and puts his lit cigarette to yours and lights it. "Heh." You blush slightly and try to avoid his gaze.

"You look brutal, by the way. Real sick." You look at him. "Huh?" "Your outfit. You know. Killer look. Real sick." You look down at yourself and sigh. You were some kind of zombie, just not just thinking about brains and intestines all the time. You actually were still human. To some extent at least. Your body however looks like a nightmare. Your skin was pale with deep wounds littered over your body. Your right eye was a milky white while the other eye was still intact. You hated how you looked.

"Maybe to you. I hate this body..." He sighs and puts a hand on your back. "I was always into zombies." He nudges you and you can't overhear a flirty tone in his voice.

Frank and you walk next to each ither for a few minutes in silence until you reach your realm - a church with a dark and old looking graveyard at the backside. The churchs roof is destroyed and crows circle the cross on top of it.

"I'll see you around, corpse bride~" He grins and turns to walk away, disappearing in the thick fog surrounding the church.

A/N: IM RLLY MAD CUZ YESTERDAY I WROTE HEADCANONS FOR DBD KILLERS REACTING TO A FEM!SURVIVOR WITH A PANIC ATTACK AND I UPLOADED IT AND IT WAS JUST GONE. Like i tried everything (log out and in again, refresh my page, look at queue, privacy settings, etc.). Its just gone and im so sad 😭😔

[phantomvegetable]

Legion (Joey) x Reader

just this once tw’s: kidnapping ? sort of lol, strong language

“Scarlet!” Comes your desperate wail, climbing over snowflakes and frigid wind only to be swallowed up by the ghost town that was Mount Ormond, “where are you?”

In a ballsy show of defiance, your little sister had made a secret escape into the fog after you turned her down for the fifth time to venture outside of camp.

“Why not?” She had demanded with a stomp of her foot, fists balled by her sides. “We already know we can’t be hurt outside of trials. What’s the harm in a little adventure?”

“Because we can’t know for sure,” You warn her sternly, not even bothering to cast her a glance. Your hard gaze focused on the fire you were too busy stoking. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

Thinking that was the end of the argument, you allowed Scarlet to stomp away in a huff of pre-teen angst, telling yourself that she would eventually cool off and forget about it. To your sheer terror, she was not waiting for you in the tent when you came to console her ten minutes later, not being able to stand the guilt that began to fester inside of you.

She was just a kid. Of course she would want to explore—she endured horrors in the trials no child, no person, should ever have to go through. She probably just needed some sort of outlet, some form of escape from the day to day monstrosities that your group fought against. You felt awful for not even trying to soften your approach.

But you swore, once you found her—you were going to rip her to pieces.

“Scarlet!” You cry again, arms curled protectively around your middle to shield against the cold. A shimmer of hair resembling your own whipped around the corner of an old ski lodge, your footfalls quickening to a light trot once you noticed. “Scarlet, I swear I’m going to kick your a—“

Your threat quickly dies in your throat as you round the building, finding your little sister hiding behind the figure of a man that struck terror in your heart.

A Legion member.

“Scarlet,” You don’t take your eyes off of him, voice wavering, “run away, now.”

“Why should I?” She sneers. “I’m fine right here.”

You want to cry.

You don’t know his name, but you recognize his all-black outfit immediately. Dark paint is smeared around his eyes resembling that of a mask—another form of hiding his true intentions behind a veil.

He gives you a once-over before speaking, “I didn’t do anything to her.”

Yet, you want to say, but instead purse your lips. “What do you want from her?”

The bastard has the gall to raise a brow quizzically at you. “Nothing,” He says. “She was all by herself out here when I found her. Not very responsible of you, might I add.” Your blood boils at that.

“Great, thanks for the input, asshole,” You hiss, voice thick with venom. “Why don’t you go and fuck off now? Don’t you have things to murder?” The way his brow comes back down and knits together with the other one tells you that you struck a nerve this time. You almost smirk in satisfaction.

“He’s not a murderer,” Scarlet defends almost immediately, stepping out from behind his legs. “Joey and I were just about to have a snowball fight.”

“Joey?” You bark out in disbelief. “You’re getting all buddy-buddy with the enemy now?”

“He’s my friend,” Scarlet growls back, going a step further to forcibly grab his hand. You’re ready to come to her rescue at that moment, but “Joey” doesn’t even flinch. He just looks down at her with an unreadable expression.

“Scarlet,” You try again, starting to lose patience with her, “seriously. Come back with me, now.”

“Or else what? You’ll put me in time out in the tent?”

That did it.

“Fine!” You snap, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “Fine. You want to be killed? Be my guest. Don’t come crying to me when he puts you on a fucking meat hook.”

You spin around after that, stomping away back to camp before the feeling of being hit by something cold stops you in your tracks. You turn your head, snow falling from your shoulders as you stare your little sister dead in the eyes.

“Beat us in a snowball fight and I’ll go back with you,” She wagers, already packing another one. Before you can tell her “no”, she hurls the next throw at you, causing you to ungracefully dodge out of the way and fall on your ass. Joey lets out a snicker, smirking at you as your icy gaze locks onto him. As if sensing your apprehension, he holds his hands up in a display of surrender.

“You heard her. You win, she goes back with you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You stay here with us.” At your unsure frown, he rolls his eyes. “Not forever, obviously. A trial will pull you both away sooner or later.” You look back at Scarlet before taking a deep breath, standing to your feet.

“You’re on.”

Three missed throws, rosy red cheeks and five successful hits later, you’re down to your final match with Scarlet and Joey until either you or they win. And, as much as you hated to admit it, you’re having fun.

You’re out of breath and your heart is pounding from excitement rather than fear just like it used to years ago when you were a kid, and you can’t help but smile every time you peek around the corner to see Scarlet grinning wildly at Joey because he scored a hit for their team. The fucker had good aim.

It was like you were transported from this world back to your own for a few blissful minutes, no longer survivors running for your lives from bloodthirsty monsters but rather people having good old fun in the snow. The burden of trying to figure out how you were going to keep your little sister (and yourself) alive seemed to melt away all but for this moment.

As you peer around your shelter to get a good visual on where Scarlet was, your smile quickly gives way to that of a frown when you don’t spot either her or Joey hiding behind their snow mound. Fear immediately seizes your heart, but you give it a minute. Then two. Then three.

“Scarlet?” You call out nervously, spying no signs of movement. Silence brings you out from behind your hiding place. “Scar?” You start to panic. “Scarlet, answer—“

Cold, cold cold cold sensations steal your words away, a scream coming out instead as snow is incessantly dumped down your clothes. You try to jump away, arms flailing and making contact with your assailant who ends up falling with you—and on top of you.

“Son of a bitch!” You wheeze, eyes opening wide to that of Joey’s face right above yours. You immediately seize up, heart skipping a beat at the close proximity of the killer. It definitely wasn’t because of his boyish, charming white smile that made the sun behind his curly black locks brighten tenfold.

Laughter rings in your ears, and it takes a second to register that it’s coming from him.

It’s husky, hearty, and full of life. Not the usual sadistic, maniacal cackled that turned your blood to ice as it boomed behind you during a wild chase. It makes him surprisingly… human.

The next sound to process in your brain is Scarlet’s laughter; wheezy, and utterly amused at your reaction to being mowed down.

“Oh man!” She wipes a tear from her eye. “Your face looked so stupid, dude!”

Despite the remark, you can’t help but puff out an eased sigh. You were glad to have your sister back.

Joey pulls himself off of you, surprising you further by offering his hand to help you stand. You eye it warily, next searching his face for a beat before tentatively accepting the gesture. You’re on your feet in one fell swoop, disconnecting your hands the moment you’re steady.

“Well,” You clear your throat, “I guess that means you beat me, huh?”

“Oh fuck yeah it does,” Scarlet grins. You glare disapprovingly, but decide to ignore her foul language by rolling your eyes.

“So then… what now?”

Scarlet’s face falls, and she suddenly hangs her head. “Actually, I.. want to go back to camp,” She says, which surprises you. “It’s getting darker, and I just want to be back by the fire…”

You want to be mad—want to yell at her all over again for bringing you all the way out here just to go back, but a hand on your shoulder has you jerking your chin towards Joey. He fixes you with a look that is all-too-easy for you to read and understand, and you sigh, shrugging it off before placing your own hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. She looks up at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and your resolve crumbles.

“Okay, let’s go,” You agree, then pause. “Race back?”

Something unreadable flashes across her face, and then she swats your hand away. “Pssh, I’m not five. I’ll walk back,” She harrumphs, pushing past you to high-five her teammate who chuckles endearingly. “Bye, Joey.”

“Seeya, kid,” He rasps, then focuses his eyes on you.

You can’t help the way your muscles contract and squeeze, expecting the assailant to lash out at any moment; to flash an evil smile, to brandish the knife he’s been hiding the entire time just waiting for the perfect time to drive it far between your ribcage until it crunches and twists your innards. But it never comes.

No words come to you, either. You don’t know if you should thank him—don’t know if you want to thank him—or if you should simply dismiss yourself and catch up to Scarlet. You opt for the latter, wordlessly stepping around Joey and trotting backwards before bounding after Scarlet.

He watches you go, the sun finally dipping beneath the trees, taking the last moments of daylight with it. Sighing, Joey pulls his mask from his jacket pocket, burning holes of hatred through the cutouts. Still, he puts it on and makes his way up the mountain; heeding the call of the Entity as the familiar pull of a trial gnaws at his bones, demanding to be reckoned with.

He just hoped it wasn’t one with you.

[dead-by-mending]

Christmas presents at Mount Ormond resort :

Frank : Some recently released horror movie (most likely the latest Terrifier) from his friends, and an ugly sweater from Kate (she knitted it herself)

Julie : New nail polish

Susie : New plushie based off Snug

Joey : New razor for his hair

HUNK : A book on special tactics

Kate : Some cookies (made by Susie) and new strings for her guitar (Frank got the idea from Yun-jin)

[ashicyde]

—Hiding in Lockers—

・Sable Ward x Fem Reader・

Fluff

>>DBD Masterlist<<

---------------------------------------

You and your girlfriend, Sable were some of the newer survivors, coming with the Unknown. You both were welcomed by many, mostly by Mikaela. During trials Sable and you would mostly split up to get generators done and to keep the killer away from each other. This trial wasn't too different.

The unfortunate group to be in this trial was Sable, Vittorio, Feng, and you, and it was against the Nurse. It was on Mount Ormond and 3 gens were done. Vittorio and Feng were both on the same gen, Sable was running around, but you haven't been accounted for in a while. Sable was trying to find you, running around the second floor of the Mount Ormond Lodge, calling for you carefully.

"You here, babe?" She called out, looking around the broken down room. The Nurse's shriek rang throughout the map every once in awhile but thankfully she didn't decide to check the inside of the lodge for now. The sound of a locker opening and closing came from behind Sable, making her turn around. "I'm here." You said and Sable softly smiled, her mood lifting a little.

"I finally found you." She said happily, walking to you and hugging you. "You alright? Any injuries?" She questioned, pulling away slightly to looking over you quickly and noticing the blood on your side. "She got you good, huh?"

You laughed softly as you nodded. "Yeah... I should be fine though." Sable rolled her eyes and saw the medkit in your hand.

"Give me that medkit and let me patch you up." She said, grabbing your medkit and opening it to grab the necessary supplies before beginning to patch you up. "I don't know why you bring a medkit if you don't heal yourself." She said with a smirk.

"It's not for me, it's for others." You replied, trying to stay still for Sable. The sound of a gen popping went through the air before Feng's scream followed. After a moment another scream filled the air. "That was Feng's last hook, she's dead." Sable finished patching you up, giving your medkit back. "She always loves to stick gens."

A loud shriek filled the air before the sound of your heartbeat filled your ears. You quickly reacted, pulling Sable with you into a locker. Thankfully Meg taught you how to do things quickly and quietly.

The Nurse flew into the room, her weapon raised as she looked around. She let out a scratchy and raspy breath and lowered her weapon when she didn't see or hear anyone in the room. You tightly held Sable closely to you, her head against your chest as you watched the Nurse through the slits in the locker. The sound of the final gen popping caught the Nurse's attention and she let's out a loud shriek before blinking away.

"Alright, she gone." You said as you carefully opened the locker, but Sable held you still. You looked at her confused when she cupped your face in her hands. "Hun, we need to leave before the Nurse comes back."

"I know, but let me just..." Her voice trailed off as she leaned forward and gave you a quick kiss. "There. I just couldn't resist. You looked so pretty." She mumbled with a small smile, making you smile.

"Alright, but let's get going now." You said with a chuckle, getting out of the locker with Sable and quickly running to the exit gates.

---------------------------------------

[imtooscaredforthis]

Tethered

Part III- Chapter Thirty Six: Tethered

Mentions of: Angst, Break ups, Murder, But a happy ending!

A/N: Yeah, we’re finally at the end!! I hope you enjoyed! I’m shadow banned on my main acc so I rlly hope this post shows up 😭

Tags: @prettycutebunny @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @vandeaad @moonshineinasippycup

There was something peaceful about Mount Ormond when you woke up. There were no howling winds that would beat against the glass or make the walls shake. It was calm. You moved your hand to the opposite side of the bed, reaching over for Frank, but feeling nothing but the sheets. You sat up and undid the bandages around your waist, noticing that your wound had healed and was gone completely. It was like it had never happened.

After grabbing a shirt and slipping it on, you got to your feet and stretched. You hadn’t left that bed in days. Of course, most of the time you were close to death, so it was warranted.

You peered out the door, gazing down the hallway. No one was there. However, you heard voices coming from downstairs. You crept down the hall, following the voices, your bare feet padding against the plush carpet.

When you reached the end of the hall, you peered over the railing, spotting Frank and Julie downstairs in the living room.

“You said we were soulmates. That we were meant to be-”

“I know what I said, Julie, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore.”

“What, because of her?”

“Yes! I���ve loved her for years. Ever since we were kids. The things we went through. She never gave up on me, and she still doesn’t, not even now, when she knows what I- when she knows what we did. I’ve always loved her, and I always will.”

“But did you ever love me, Frank?” Her voice was soft and sad, the pain clear in it. A heavy guilt weighed on your shoulders.

“I…”

“Answer the question!”

“I don’t know, okay? I thought I did, but now I- I don’t know.”

She scoffed, shaking her head at him. “That’s what I thought.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off. Frank groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“Hey.” You were so quiet that Frank almost didn’t hear you. He looked over his shoulder, spotting you walking down the stairs, going to join him in the lobby/living room area. He offered you a weak smile. “Hey.”

You sat beside him on the couch, taking his hand, holding it gently. “Tell me you didn’t hear that conversation?”

“I did..I feel awful. I’m sorry for her, and I’m sorry I put you in this situation.” You squeezed his hand. He squeezed it back, reaching it over and pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Don’t blame yourself-”

“No, (y/n). It is. I should’ve told her sooner. I should’ve known. All that time we were apart, I knew. But I did everything to convince myself I didn’t..And what I did. I don’t regret killing that guy, but I do regret making the others kill him with me. I dragged them all here with me, and we’ll always be here now.”

“Do you think..Do you think you’d still be together if I wasn’t here?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again. “There’s something I have to show you.”

He went back up to his room, and he returned with the notebook. The one you had given him all those years ago. He handed it to you.

“You kept it?” You opened it, seeing that first note you had written him.

“Well, The Entity did. I had thrown it out, but The Entity kept all the notes I had written to you. I guess she knew how important it was to me.” He admitted.

You smiled softly, flipping through the pages and seeing how many letters he had written. “So you really did write the letters, huh? Did they help?”

“...Sometimes. Read them.”

You flipped back to the front page, reading the first letter he had written you.

–

It hurts. It hurts too much. Why did you leave me (y/n)? Why did you abandon me, just like the others?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared down at the paper, clutching it tightly. “I’m so sorry Frank. I wish I knew-”

“Shh, shhh, it’s not your fault baby. I chose to leave. I had to deal with the consequences. I just- I missed you so much.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, wiping your tears and holding you close to him and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you keep reading for me?”

You nodded, taking a deep shaky breath and moving on to the next page.

–

“I don’t understand. On these pages, it says that you’ve moved on. That you’re happy with your group and your decisions.” You stared down at the last note.

He shook his head. “Do you think if I was happy with my choices, I would’ve written to you about it? All this time, I was thinking about you. Writing to you. And you know how much I hated school and writing. So no matter what front I put up, I was always thinking about you, caring about what you thought, what you’d do if you were there. Like I said before. I tried so hard to hate you, but I never could.”

He laughed softly. “And even when I thought it was over, when I thought I would be here forever, without you, The Entity brought you back to me. We’re stuck here together, for eternity. But there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with than you.”

Your expression softened, and you smiled at him, letting him press his forehead against yours. “Yeah, you can never get rid of me now.”

“I’d never want to. I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Frank.”

You leaned in, kissing him softly. After a few long moments, you pulled away.

“Are you sure your friends can handle us being together?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, Susie loves you, and Joey does too. I’m pretty sure he had a bit of a crush on you for a while.” He admitted, making you giggle.

“What about Julie?”

He sighed softly. “She’ll get over it eventually.”

You nodded solemnly. “It doesn’t matter, because no matter what I have you and we'll always be together.”

He cupped your cheek, kissing you again. But as he did, you felt yourself fade away, being pulled into a trial.

You let yourself get pulled, let the darkness overtake you, unafraid to face the fear, suffering and pain ahead. It didn’t matter. You had Frank and you knew, as long as you were with him, everything would be okay.

The End.

[shes-ghostface]

New Mount Ormond Resort inspired Dead by Daylight candle available in my Etsy shop! ❄️

[halcy0ng1rl]

growing pains | F.J.S.J

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Joey: R U OK?  Susie: @ the lodge

3.5k words Susie Lavoie centric hurt/comfort

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Playlist𝅘𝅥𝅮 1: Growing Pains by Ethel Cain  2: Nara Dreamland by Nicole Dollanganger  3: Crack Baby by Mitski 4: Golden Age by Ethel Cain 5: Waco, Texas by Ethel Cain 6: Not a lot, just Forever by Adrianne Lenker

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

1996, Mount Ormond 

The bitingly cold wind wafted through Susie’s hair as she trudged up the steps to the abandoned Mount Ormond Ski resort. It nipped at the static tears in her eyes and snuck through the gap of her sweater’s front pocket, hands stuffed feebly inside. She dredged her soaking canvas sneakers up the crumbling wood steps toward a room she knew all too well. The cracked frosted glass window of her sanctuary door welcomed her home. 

She folded herself onto the painstakingly thin mattress and listened as the wind-beaten old frame sighed under her weight. The dark mauve dusk of evening settled over the inconsequential town of Ormond, and by extension, over Susie. 

      As she pulled the bed’s scratchy faded blue blanket over her nose, she felt the inevitable sting of tears fall from her burning eyes down her cold cheeks. Snot dripped from her nose, and she wiped it with her sleeve. She hated him. 

Congested sobs bubbling up in her throat, hair the texture of dead straw sticking to her forehead, tonight’s altercation played on repeat in her head;

Her mid-term marks in her father's curled fist. Shouting. The deaf ring of flesh hitting flesh. More shouting. 

‘How can my daughter be an idiot and a dyke?!’ Smack. ‘You ungrateful brat!’ Another. ‘Fucking useless’. Crunch. 

She had managed to tune out most of it– his usual drunken stammering– but she couldn’t tune out the pain in her ribs or the throbbing ache under her left cheekbone or the coagulating, purple-green bruises on her shins. Some things she couldn’t escape. But here in this abandoned, snow-soaked castle, she could flee to her own kingdom of solace if only for a few hours. 

Susie had first found the ski lodge with Julie last year when they were juniors at Fairview, first semester. They were out cruising in Susie’s “new” 1990 accord during the Christmas break, snow falling like puffy stars beyond the windshield. Old holiday jingles played over the beat-up speakers, and as they drove down a backroad on the way to one of their only rich friend’s parties, Julie spotted the large chain-link fence hidden in the thickets of frost-covered evergreens. 

Susie parked the car, apprehensive as Julie ran her purple-manicured fingernails over the rusted NO TRESPASSING sign bolted to the fence. The words, emblazoned in crimson red, put a knot in Susie’s stomach. 

She didn’t even want to go to this party, let alone break into a place where they could get in trouble, murdered, lost, or all of the above. But as Julie’s cold hand took hers, all of her worries melted away. So long as they were together, Susie could do anything. 

Pulling her hood over her snow-dotted blonde hair, Julie whisked over the fence with ease. Susie followed suit, albeit less gracefully, and they stared at the forgotten wood monolith in awe once their feet hit the icy pathway. Julie broke out in a rush of excitement. 

“Let’s go, Suse!” 

Susie tried her best to keep up with Julie’s sudden burst of energy, her breath visible in the night air as she clamoured up the hill. Inside was a world of their wildest dreams. 

They spent the night pouring over the dusty wood bannisters and abandoned vending machines, enchanted by the cavernous hallways and cracking upholstery, all left permanently as they were when the resort closed. Stuck in time. Moonlight and snowflakes filtered through a large concave in the roof and illuminated the large centrepiece fireplace. Cracked wooden beams stretched across the high ceilings for what seemed like miles.

 It was the most beautiful place they’d ever seen.

Holding a hazy green bottle of champagne, Julie leaned against the water-ring-covered bar in the chalet. She dusted the cobwebs from the glass with her gloved palm. 

       The moon from the window behind her illuminated the contours of her like a halo as she smiled skeptically at Susie, raising the bottle. Susie felt a painful and sudden yearning to reach over the countertop and close the distance between them in response, but instead, she simply nodded. Stared into the beautiful, gleaming blue eyes before her.

 Julie popped the cork. 

“To the other resort that shut this place out of business,” she toasted, and lifted the bottle to her cracked lips.

 They took turns sipping the bubbly drink, laughing like they hadn’t in years as they posed like 1950s pin-up girls on the countertop and talked like detectives they’d heard in movies. The sound of tipsy giggles filled the once-empty chamber of the resort and echoed back at them, sweet and melodic. 

The world introducing Susie to this place was the kindest thing it had ever done for her right next to introducing her to Julie in the eighth grade. 

When they finally made it to the party, it couldn’t compare to the fun they’d had at the lodge. 

Even now thinking about that day made Susie’s tears quiet, and the thrumming of her heart steady. She held herself together, knees up to her chin, and closed her eyes. Thinking of Julie and snow. The gentle scent of her car's heat enveloping them in the dark cab when they drove back home, only faintly lit by the dashboard. 

‘Too bad she’s preoccupied with he who shall not be named,’ she retorted to herself bitterly. 

The warm visual of Julie in the snow morphed into Frank in the firelight, the underside of his jaw highlighted by orange as he pressed his thin lips to Julie’s, the scent of whiskey on her breath for the rest of the night. Susie could smell it when she hugged her goodbye. 

Even so, she couldn’t be mad at him for long. They were cut from the same cloth and he had saved them from dying of boredom before senior year. But part of her was ambivalent toward the lodge no longer being hidden as the forest's best-kept secret. Upset that Julie wanted him over her, and that he returned the sentiment. The conflicting feelings she had for Julie made her want to buy a gun, shoot 30 people, and then herself. It didn’t seem fair. 

She thought of them, toiling around on the dust-covered comforters in the next room over. A shared cigarette burning between parted lips, smoke funnelling into the air (Susie knew Julie wouldn’t object if he offered). They were probably glad she couldn’t come that day— it may have even been their plan. Julie knew she had a test that morning.

‘You’re my best friend. You know I’d never leave you out, right?’ And yet she did. 

But then she thought of all the fun the four of them had together these past few months and flashes of Julie’s black-lipped smile brought forth that feeling of belonging she sought for. Her friends filled the gaping hole life had carved in her chest. 

With a pang of guilt, Susie remembered her obligation. Tonight was a legion night, her legion night and she was spending it wallowing her pain away dreaming wistfully about a girl who would never love her back. Angry for reasons she had made up in her head. She hugged herself tighter. ‘Pathetic’. 

Before this evening she had planned to rent a copy of whatever interested her at the video store and formulate her ideas whilst they curled up on the couch munching on popcorn, staring at Frank’s tiny box TV. Yet here she was. Ditching them. 

They were probably all waiting for her. 

Her phone buzzed, confirming her suspicion. 

Joey: R U OK?  Susie: @ the lodge

Immediately after she sent the text with shaky fingers, Julie’s number flashed across the tiny viridian screen. The phone vibrated, and she hesitated for a moment– then put it to her ear. 

“Hello? Susie?” Julie’s voice cracked through the poor signal. Susie sat on the edge of the bed, picking at her leggings. 

“Hey Julie,” her voice worked hard against the lump in her throat. Julie picked up on her tone immediately. 

“Is everything okay? Joey said you’re at the lodge.” 

“Yeah, I– uh,” Susie exhaled a shaky breath, watched it dissipate into the air. Julie would understand, surely, but putting words to everything she felt would be like having her teeth pulled. She ran her tongue along her braces and bit the inside of her scarred-up cheeks silently. The fear of being seen as a burden outweighed her need for reassurance. 

The sickly-sweet voice on the other end broke her from her reverie.

“Are you there, Suse?” 

She wiped her runny nose and teary eyes with her sleeve, murmuring a small “yeah,” in response. 

“We’ll be there soon, okay? Don’t go anywhere.” She could hear Joey’s concerned whispering in the background; ‘What’s she saying?’ ‘Was it her dad?’ He was probably fluttering nervously over Julie, playing with his hands. Susie began to sob. ‘So much for playing it cool,’ she thought. 

“Okay,” she choked.

“Love you, we’ll be there soon, I promise.” 

“Love you too,” when Susie flipped her phone shut, she heard a snippet of Frank’s manic raving behind Julie’s soft reassurances; ‘We should get back at him, strike while the iron is still hot-’ and flopped back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling. 

She had thought of it before. Taking a kitchen knife to his throat in the middle of the night, beating him senseless and leaving him to starve to death in the closet under the stairs. Even petty things, like smashing the glass cabinet that held all of his ski trophies and snapping the gold-coated pieces of metal into unrecognisable specks of dust. She wanted so badly for him to hurt, to feel all of the pain he caused her. To let go of all of the rage she felt. 

She would love to ply off his fingernails one by one.

However, every time the knife block in the kitchen whispered to her, a wave of nausea would settle deep in her stomach. She would be letting him win if she gave in to their pleas. 

Every inch of skin sliding overtop of her bones shook with resentment and made her sick with a desperation to rip it all off. 

The salty taste of anger fell into her mouth as she screamed into the pillow, tearing at her hair. She tore the choker off her neck and threw her shoes in the corner of the room, then collapsed once more and screamed until her throat felt the same texture as wood bark. 

“Why are you like this Susie?” She mocked, lifting her face up. “Why are you like this Susie?” She straddled the pillow, picturing her father’s limp body in its place as she curled her hands into fists and threw blow after blow at it. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, SUSIE?! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, SUSIE?!” 

For the one time he caught her smoking, 

For the one time she got a 40 on a science test, 

For the one time he saw her ex-girlfriend kiss her in the driveway,

For every single time she simply existed and he took it out on her as if she had just committed a crime worthy of capital punishment, she threw her fist at the pillow. 

…

When Julie walked into the room, she stumbled upon Susie sitting red-faced on the floor surrounded by feathers with her head in her hands. Smudged mascara had cascaded down her cheeks. 

Immediately, Julie dove into the fluffy down and enveloped Susie in a warm hug. Startled– yet grateful to see her– Susie returned the favour and found solace in the warmth of her neck. 

She smelled like the expensive perfume her parents had gotten her for Christmas last year: vanilla & sandalwood. 

Her hands dug into Julie’s shoulders,

“I just want to fucking burn it all down.” 

“I know,” she held her tighter “I know.” 

Susie’s eyes locked onto Frank, leaning against the doorframe with a flashlight. An uncharacteristic look of sympathy contorted his pimpled face. His eyes told a level of understanding beyond words, but he was still tapping his foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, some sinister plan brewing behind his gentle gaze.

She knew what he was thinking of doing. Silently, she shook her head. 

 Joey stood right beside Julie, a soft hand on Susie’s heaving shoulders. 

They had come to console her in one of her darkest times and were willing to give up their night to do so. Weren’t afraid of the hysteric wailing, or the uncomfortable silence that followed. The very thought of their sacrifice made Susie’s heart swell with affection. 

When she finally calmed down and pulled away, Julie chuckled. 

“Guess I know better than to ask what happened here,” she smiled and gestured to the decimated pillow. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Susie felt her lips curl into a sheepish grin. The room sighed. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she stood up and dusted herself off, kicking the feathers to the corner to join the dust bunnies. Julie threw her knapsack on the bed as Susie hastily embraced Joey and waved at Frank as he settled the flashlight on the nightstand, a silent token of apology. They all moved closer to the centre of the room as Julie unzipped the bag. 

“We stopped by shoppers on the way here, sorry it took so long,” blurs of colour folded out of the bag and onto the bed “but we picked some stuff up for you.” Julie leaned against the bedframe to give Susie time to examine her wares. 

On the dusty mattress lay a box of electric blue hair dye, a pack of menthol Newports, a crunchy chocolate bar, fluffy white teddy bear, and a cassette tape with ‘for Suzzie :)’ emblazoned on it in permanent marker. Susie was overwhelmed.

“Guys–” 

Julie wrapped an arm around her from behind and pointed at her presents with a peeling manicured finger, “The dye, crunch, and bear are from me, the mixtape is from Joey, and the Newports are from Frank,” she jokingly scoffed and glared at him from the corner of her eye “because he obviously wants to kill you before we graduate.” 

He flipped off Julie with a smirk and walked closer, “your favourite, right?” 

Susie stuffed the pack into her front pocket, the familiar weight soothing her “Yeah, thanks– you remembered.” 

Frank tousled her knotted hair, “Kinda hard to forget when you reek of mint every time you get to the caf.” 

Susie punched him lightheartedly– eliciting a mock cry of pain from the boy– and bent over to caress the glossy cassette tape with her fingertips, brushing over the inscription of her name. There were little stars and lightning bolts doodled next to it in gel pen. On the back, it said ‘from Joey >:)’. 

“That was supposed to be your Christmas gift, but I figured you should have it now.” 

“It’s mid-November,” 

“I like to plan ahead.” 

She grinned at his obvious lie. “So what’s on it?” 

Joey pulled a piece of creased notebook paper from his pocket, tracklist written in hasty scrawl “I had Julie help me out, you can yell at her if it's wrong.” 

Susie took her time examining the note, most of it spent deciphering his handwriting– tracks from Aphex Twin, Nine inch Nails, and even some of the obscure techno artists she annoyed everyone else with were there. Her lips curled over her braces as she beamed. 

“This is sick, Joey.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s perfect.” 

His shoulders sagged like he had been tense for the whole minute this interaction played out. “I’ll bring my player up here at some point,” Frank shot him a wink, and Susie pretended not to notice, but it made her feel a little sick. 

She loved Joey, but not that way. She didn’t know how to tell him that, though, and she also didn’t want to lead him on. Her heart only pined for Julie, who was waiting idly for Susie to pay attention to her. How the tables had turned. 

Susie’s black nails gripped the polar-white teddy bear and stared into its beady brown eyes, bewildered by the care her friends had shown her. She wasn’t used to this. “How much of this did you actually pay for?” 

Julie eyed Frank and put a finger to her lips “That’s classified.” 

Susie wanted to kiss her right then and there. So many nights she lay awake and fantasized about it; how she would taste, where her hands would travel, if her braces would make it awkward. Would she whisper to her and throw her blonde hair over one shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way? Would Julie taste the menthols on her tongue? 

Would the nicotine on it drive her crazy?

Every night would end the same, with Susie going to bed alone in her cold bedroom, forever unfulfilled. Left solitary to wander the confines of her unsatisfactory thoughts, stuck at an impasse. Susie knew better than anyone that you don’t always get what you want, but why couldn’t she have this one good thing? 

She’d have to settle with simply being her friend and the thought terrified her. Julie seemed like her only ticket to happiness, the cure-all for her woes. ‘Take me,’ she wanted to scream. ‘Just fucking take me already!’ 

The stuffed animal in her arms’ stitched-on mouth smiled as if to reassure her–which sadly didn’t work much. She tried to distract herself by imagining different ways to give it a makeover, she could glue on some googly eyes, patch on some fabric, spray Julie’s perfume on it– 

Okay, maybe that angle wasn’t working either. 

Julie’s voice poked through her dizzy trance.

“You wanted to dye your hair blue, right?” 

“Hm?” 

Julie shook the box of hair dye, “You wanted to dye your hair blue, right? You said something about it the other day.” Concern painted her perfect face. 

“Oh, sorry, it’s—yes. I wanted to dye it blue—thank you, Julie–” Fumbling, Susie looked down at her faded pink tendrils: brown was steadily leaching into the strands. She dreaded the thought of being brunette again. 

“Are you okay? You spaced out on me there. We can leave if–”

“No!” She blurted, “I’m okay, more than, I just wasn’t expecting all this. That’s all.” 

Again, her heart filled with appreciation and her face grew hot with the embarrassment of being perceived. She took a split-second moment to lavish in the fact that for once, people cared enough to remember the little things, like her favourite brand of cigarettes, the music she listened to– even something as trivial as the colour she offhandedly said she wanted to dye her hair.  It was such an unnatural feeling, to be revered. Her eyes darted around the room to look at the faces of her friends, all of a sudden so grateful for them—fuzzy warmth cascaded through her body. 

Julie waited for her to continue, one hand on Susie’s arm. “I thought you’d come here to drag me out, get me back on my feet to continue the night’s activities– not this,” Susie’s eyes met the floor, full of guilt. How could she ever think so lowly of them? Julie’s brows furrowed, then softened, her eyes gentle. 

“I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Even if that means postponing legion–” she rolled her eyes at the term Frank had coined, “--activities. You come first,” Susie found herself in Julie’s embrace once more, inhaling that sweet scent on her skin. “We can’t stop that prick from hurting you, but the least we can do is be there for when he does.” 

Frank tilted his head after a few moments of silence and put words to what everybody was thinking yet didn’t want to admit: “We could kill the fucker.” 

Nobody laughed. Joey’s face turned to stone, and Julie only clutched the girl in her arms tighter. Thunder cracked outside and icy sheets of rain slammed against the window, as inside, the four of them raged with the same deadly force. 

All they could do was wait for the storm to pass. 

…

The next day, in Julie’s small bathroom, Susie sat on the tile floor with her neck craned over the bathtub, freshly bleached scalp covered in cerulean sludge. 

“You’re gonna look like Marge,” Frank’s scratchy chuckle echoed. 

“Oh, shut up!” Julie pushed him, then bent over Susie and smiled haphazardly. “You’re gonna look great.” 

Joey, leaning against the countertop, put up a hand in defence, “Better than looking like a walking piece of bubblegum.” 

“Hey, you all said it looked good pink–” 

“Don’t listen to these morons, Suse,” 

Julie tilted her best friend’s head back, smiled, and turned on the handheld tap with blue-stained fingertips.

 I’m home, Susie thought, I’m home here. 

[thefoxtherapist]

Snowball Fight

This was written for @cerasus--flores and is a rewrite of my old work from late 2018.

tags: Susie(Legion) x gn!reader, just tooth rotting fluff!

You dove behind some broken pieces of wood, the pallets providing ample cover even as the cold bit into your cheeks from the wind. But it wasn’t just the wind and snow of Mount Ormond you needed protection from. A snowball whizzed by your head and you exhaled a soft laugh as you heard Susie call out.

“Stop hiding, coward!”

You poked your head over the pallets, looking around for the pink haired girl. You briefly saw a bright flash of her hair disappear behind a tree and you smirked, kneeling back down to gather some snow from the ground. You popped up once more, waiting for her to poke out from behind the tree.

Once she had, you threw the snowball at her, hitting her square in the chest. A soft ‘oof’ escaped the girl as she once more hid behind the tree. You bent down again, doing your best to quickly pack together another snowball. Before you could stand however, you heard the telltale crunch of snow under foot.

And then you were covered.

“Got you!”

Susie seemed proud of herself as you looked up at her, hair wet with the snow she’d dropped on your head from the other side of the pallets. You reeled your arm back, throwing the loosely packed snowball at her. She blinked several times, wiping her face on her hoodie sleeve.

You grinned when you saw her expression, the girl shaking her head at you, and soon, a laugh escaped her. She held her hand out over the broken wood and you took it, pulling yourself to your feet. Susie rounded the wood, her fingers interlacing with yours. “It’s cold.” You nodded towards the old abandoned lodge and she nodded, tugging you along.

Once inside, it took the girl little time to get the fire going, having done it a hundred times before for the others. She rested against the couch, shaking snow from her hair as you plopped on the seat beside her. “Are the others coming soon?” You questioned as you rested your head against her shoulder.

Susie hummed, pulling her pager from her pocket to check if she’d gotten any messages. But she shook her head, pocketing it once more. “I haven’t heard from them today.” She answered, pulling you back on the couch with her. You hummed, resting your head more on her chest instead.

The fire crackled before you, doing some to warm your cold skin. But it was her arm around you that brought the greatest sense of warmth. You closed your eyes momentarily, listening to the beat of her heart under your ear. Her fingers absentmindedly ran through your hair, an action soothing to her and you.

Some time passed and you could feel her gently rocking you awake. You blinked a couple of times, looking up at her face to see her looking down at you. “We should go back, you’re still freezing.” She smiled, rubbing her face against the top of your head affectionately.

“Ooh, wanna go back to my place and order pizza?”

“Mm.. Only if we can get pineapple.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to help your smile. “For you?” You sighed dramatically and she lifted her head to look at you. “For you I suppose I will order the pineapple pizza..” And she broke out in a big smile, one she was unable to stifle even as she pressed several kisses all over your face.

[scotianostra]

On June 5th 1592 an act of the Scottish Parliament came into force “concerning the Office of Lyoun King of Armes and his brether Heraldis”

The Lord Lyon is still in use today and an important office in all heraldic matters.

The title, Lord Lyon - King of Arms, stems from an ancient tradition of sovereign appointment. The appointee is responsible for "granting armorial bearing of the recognition of clan chiefs". The Lord Lyon, who has his own procurator fiscal, investigates abuses of heraldic law.

The position may incorporate the much older Celtic office of royal Seanchaidh or of King’s Poet with responsibility for keeping the royal genealogy and attending the inauguration (later coronation) of the King.

The Lord Lyon is the sole King of Arms in Scotland. He is Head of the Heraldic Executive and the Judge of the Court of the Lord Lyon which has jurisdiction over all heraldic business in Scotland.

On ceremonial occasions the Lord Lyon is accompanied by Her Majesty’s Officers of Arms, all of whom are members of the Royal Household. They are at present Rothesay Herald, Snawdoun Herald and Marchmont Herald, Ormond Pursuivant, Dingwall Pursuivant and Unicorn Pursuivant.

The Officers of Arms may be consulted on matters of heraldry and genealogy by members of the public and may represent their clients before the Lyon Court.

An Act of the Scottish Parliament of 1592 gave the Lord Lyon responsibility for prosecuting as a criminal offence anyone who uses unauthorised Arms. The Court has its own Procurator Fiscal an independent official prosecutor.

In 1672 a further Act of the Scottish Parliament authorised the creation of the Public Register of All Arms and Bearings in Scotland. This Register is maintained by the Lyon Clerk and Keeper of the Records and contains an official copy of every Coat of Arms granted in Scotland since 1672.

Anyone can create their own coat of arms for your family. it is the Lord Lyon, and his deputies that will do a search to verify it is unique and register your design.

Sir David Lyndsay of the Mount a poet and diplomat during the Scottish Renascence was the first official Lord Lyon from 1542–1554 but the actual office of Lord Lyon predates the year 1399, with Henry Greve recorded as the first holder during the reign of Robert III. There is an oft-repeated statement that Robert the Bruce created a Lyon King of Arms in 1318, but this is open to considerable doubt. The story seems to have been originated in the fifteenth century by a sub-prior of Arbroath Abbey, one William de Pittenweem. However, the Exchequer and other Records do not support the assertion and it is not until 1377 that the office of “Lyoun Herauld” is known to have existed.

The Rev. Canon Dr. Morrow is the present day Lord Lyon, he was appointed in 2014.

The first pic is the arms of Lord Lyon, next is Sir David Lindsay of the Mount who was Lord Lyon from 1542 to 1554. A poet and diplomat during Renaissance Scotland, then the Seal of the Lord Lyon King of Arms, created in 1673, depicting the arms of the Lord Lyon, lastly is Lord Lyon King of Arms' crown. The others are labeled

[deadbyoffering]

25 more things that the killers (mainly The Legion) Are not allowed to do

See the first 25 things that the killers are not allowed to do

First

26. Mr. Carter is not allowed to hold a petition on banning animatronics. Just because you didn’t like your fortune from Zoltar doesn’t mean you have the power to get rid of them.

27. Mr. Spencer’s chain hooks are not to be use as hook hangers or to hang laundry.

28. Mr. Ojomo bell’s is not to be used as a dinner bell, but it can be used as a fire alarm or to be summoned for a meeting.

29. Mr. Kovács or his associates are not allowed anywhere near a Renaissance Festival without supervision  ever.

30. If you open any chest during a trial, close it.

31. Killers are not allowed to suggest which survivors perk should be banned. Nerfing is enough as it is.

32. No one is allowed to pull the kill switch. Not even on your anyone birthday.

33. Movies that released before 1960s are no longer allowed to be shown during movie night. 

34. Use the restroom before a trial and not during it.

35. The Legion are not allowed to bring spray paint to tag walls anyone anything.

36. Cameras or any flash photography devices are prohibited in the trials with the exception for Mr. Johnson.

37. Maurice was found and has been returned to Mr. Hawk. The perpetrator, the Dredge, is not allowed to be within 50 meters of Maurice or Mr. Hawk property.

38. To clear up some confusion above, the Maurice seen in trials is not the real Maurice but a replica of him.

39. To clear more of the Dredge and the Maurice situation above, those who have reported that the Dredge still has Maurice in its body is just an illusion. 

40. Mr. Kovács or his associates are not allowed to be hired by the following: camping, raiding or intimidating individuals.

41. The Legion don’t have permission to let survivors to leave trials if they defeated them in break dancing, arm wrestling or can make Frank laugh with a comedy skit.

42. Miss Imai is not cosplayer who made a poor attempt as cosplaying the Predator.

43. No one is allowed to trained the crows to attack survivors if the killer is stunned during trials.

44.The Legion Anyone not is allowed to serve alcohol to survivors in the Dead Dawg Saloon or Mount Ormond Resort.

45. The Legion are no longer allowed to yell “hippy hoppy, get off my property” while wearing the Robbie The Rabbit costume. It was funny the first time, but after 48 times it became obnoxious.

46. Although we have the equipment for it, there will never be a snow boarding tournament.

47. Miss Imai’s drones are not to be tampered with. Neither it to be used as a target practice or trying to catch them with a butterfly net.

48. The water tower is not to be used as a pool or hot tub. 

49. Even though he’s the same age as his sister, Mr. Deshayes prohibited to drink alcohol.

50. No longer anybody is allowed to yell “Here’s comes the bees!,” when they see Mr. Cage.

[c4llofbrine]

[continued from here]

@maskedfrenzy

She'd hoped this building would be empty. She doesn't have a home of her own here in the fog, cursed to wander the realm between hunts. She isn't quite used to it here yet. But, this is worst case scenario.

Maybe someone else would find a fellow teenage girl like Susie nonthreatening, preferable compared to the horrible monsters like the Dredge that could've found her here. But, girls her age had never much liked her. The way she'd been treated in school plagued her nightmares more than the ghosts and monsters she’d seen ever did.

The walls are starting to shake, lights flickering. Sadako closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, tries to center herself. She intuitively knows that something bad will happen to her if she kills outside of a trial, even if it isn't on purpose. She has to keep control over herself.

“Why are you here?” It's unclear whether she means in this particular rental room of the Mount Ormond Resort, or in the Entity’s realm altogether. She'll take an answer for either one.