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fishyvamp · 4 months ago

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I think Tarhos, Trapper, Danny, frankly all of the killers really, would come with me to my doctors appoitment and threaten the doctor if they weren't taking my issues seriously, love them for that

This hits close to the chest, doctor's ignoring signs brushing you off. Suddenly your notes include hypochondria, history of severe mental illness, or some other way to discredit you for every cynical half assed doctor who sees your notes. Maybe not every killer, but enough of them for sure and these are violent and passionate killers. If you are their world, oh boy the doctor better hope that they only piss the one off who isn't stab happy dump their body in the woods kind of person.

Just for my sanity and so I can live vicariously through my own writing this will take place in a modern!AU though if you want a more period accurate one I'd indulge.

Evan Macmillan, The Trapper, is from one the most influential families in the city. What the fuck do they mean his doll is a lazy and should lose weight?! You're trying everything to get better, but you can barely get out of bed. Your limbs feeling like lead most mornings. He shows up holding your hand as he listens to the doctor adress him and not you. Telling him, not you that it's all about diet.

Evan Macmillan is short tempered, he tries to hard to control it, but the fact that the doctor is talking to him and not you and asking him for the information has him screaming at the doctor as you try to calm him down. The man is seeing red, hating himself for prioritizing the work at the mine instead of your health. If the doctor doesn't agree to at least test Evan will make sure the doc is blacklisted to hell and back, because you don't deserve to live like this without at least answers.

Tarhos Kovács, The Knight, is a veteran, turned mercenary, who enlisted way too young. He's seen too many fall apart from neglect and you are his world. He knows you are trying and he knows you want to get better. Your eyes full of tears whenever you come home a new bottle of pills in a brown paper bag. You hurt all the time, your head hurts all the time. Days on end in bed, you feel bad that with little time he is home is spent with him caring for you. Surely he would want someone less broken.

One too many times this has happens and he's driving to the doctors office leaving you at home just so he can yell at someone. The doctor would be preferred, but he'll settle on an administrator to threaten and scream at. They haven't done any scans ever for you and you've dealt with this longer then you have known him. It hurts him to know that you're being ignored. For some strange reason you get a call saying the doctor wants scans on the book for a more comprehensive look.

"Jed Olsen", The Ghostface, is silent rage kind of guy. You insisted that he didn't need to come. You're still freshly dating only a few months, but he knows your ill and knows you've been ignored Everytime you've asked for help. You're afraid he's going to scream at the doc make a scene and just generally be embarrassing. You know he's angry, he's got that look in his eye that You've only seen when he said he had business to take care of weirdly smelled of bleach the next day. However that didn't happen instead you watch him pull out a thick pocket journal opening it up.

Turns out he's been monitoring you closely and that smart watch he got you was him preparing for this. He starts rattling off any and every unusual thing he's noted and is even willing to give a copy to the doc to go over. Hard to say it's in your head when the details are all written down. The doc says he needs to look over it to figure out what tests he wants to run but there was enough there for him to justify it. "Jed" is just happy to see that look of relief on your face knowing that something might finally happen even if there is no cure at least you're a step closer to finding out what it might be. He also starts taking your vitals more openly now that his secret is out.

Philip Ojomo, The Wraith, has been ignored enough time himself to know who is the right doctor to go to. Someone who will actually listen to you, someone who looks horrified as you explain why you just stopped trying to figure out what is wrong with you. Philip doesn't care how far the two of you have to travel for you to get proper care, he'll take work off to drive hours to get you to a specialist. He doesn't see it as a chore, he loves you and this; this is just him caring for the one he loves more then the air itself. He'll even carry you inside when you inevitably pass out on the drive home.

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gruesomegateau · 1 year ago

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Killers and their s/o's pets

some general headcanons for how killers (Hillbilly/Wraith/Spirit/Huntress) would interact with an S/O's pet and how they would feel about various animals.

Max Thompson Jr / The Hillbilly

Max is not great with a lot of animals. Not all of them, but a lot of common domestic animals. A dog or pretty much any farm animal is going to be pretty tough to get him to do anything more than tolerate. He won't hurt them or anything, but he's going to try his best to avoid acknowledging that they're there at all.

Max is fully aware that the way he views these animals isn't fair- they're animals, after all, its not like they've wronged him on purpose. But his negative associations towards them is strong.

Other animals, however, Max is fine with. He might even be okay with small dogs like pugs or shih tzus, as they barely even resemble the police dogs that lead to his dislike of dogs as a whole.

Max likes cats. Partially because the cartoons that provided him small solace from his otherwise horrid life, but he also just enjoys watching the way they move and climb. Is completely unbothered by cats bringing in dead mice or snakes. Might even pet them for doing a 'good job'.

That said, Max also gets... jealous easily. He has a lot of insecurities around the idea of people like his parents valuing animals like pigs more than him.

Just know that if you're giving your pet affection in front of Max, Max is going to want affection to. Just some reassurance that you value him, too.

Max also finds insects to be interesting. He doesn't really like flies, he's seen enough of them and heard enough of their buzzing for a lifetime, but if his S/O keeps things like beetles or butterflies, Max will find that pretty neat. And, another big plus for Max, there's not really much of a way to show affection to or receive affection from an insect, so there's not much for him to get jealous over.

Fish fall into a similar category to insects, especially since Max hasn't really seen that many fish in-person before: not alive ones, anyway.

Philip Ojomo / The Wraith

Philip is good with most animals! He used to leave food in his garage for stray cats, so he has a fondness of cats in particular.

Animals also just like Philip. An old junker dog at Autohaven would bark and growl at every other employee as they came in, but not Philip. After he entered the realm and became 'The Wraith', the crows also seemed to have an affinity towards him, though those aren't exactly 'real' animals.

Still! Philip is fond of most animals and most animals are fond of him. Animals he's not familiar with he's more than happy to learn about.

Leave him alone with an animal and when you come back he will probably be cooing over it and talking to it. Stops being so affectionate when he realizes he's no longer alone.

Not that Philip's trying to hide his fondness of the pet, he'll still pet it and talk fondly of it in front of people, but its more reserved than when he's alone.

Rin Yamaoka / The Spirit

Rin's pretty average with her feelings on and interactions with animals. Likes your standard stuff, is a bit more hesitant with more unusual pets, like snakes or spiders.

Would really like a dog if thats what her S/O's pet is, if her financial situation in life allowed it she would have liked to have one herself, but she's a bit more hesitant now, worried a dog might run off with one of her floating limbs.

Other than that, Rin also gets a bit worried about being affectionate with anything, animals especially. At least with affection towards her S/O, they both know to be cautious of the glass imbedded in Rin's skin, but a lot of animals might not always know better.

Because of this, Rin's more reserved with giving pets or physical affection towards animals, but will give them a lot of silly, affectionate nicknames.

Anna / The Huntress

If you have a pet, you need to establish that with Anna well before introducing her to it.

Its not that the idea of a pet is entirely foreign to Anna; She's seen hunting dogs, and vaguely can recall wishing for one of her own as a young girl.

But that time has long passed, and her default view of anything other than herself and children is 'prey'. Establishing that this particular animal is not prey before introducing Anna to it is best to prevent any misconceptions from taking root in the back of her mind.

Naturally very curious about animals. Observing animals to learn their behaviors and weak points is engrained into her- of course, she won't hurt your pet on purpose once its established to her that it is your pet, but the way she watches it will still feel like a predator stalking its prey.

If you have a dog, she will want to try to use it as a hunting dog. Might be disappointed if its not a kind of dog that can easily be trained to do that, or is just too small for it.

She'll be a bit lost on how to interact with a cat initially, but comes to understand their behavior rather quickly. They're hunters, too, but prefer to hunt alone unlike dogs. She finds it respectable. Will be extremely delighted by a cat bringing back dead mice or snakes; She understands it as the cat bringing back food it hunted for its family. It might not be much of a meal for humans, but she can appreciate the sentiment of it.

Not going to be very affectionate to any animal at first because she isn't sure how to be. Anna will pretty quickly pick up on how her S/O shows affection to their pet and mimic that, though her petting of animals tends to have a bit more force behind it then needed.

Generally likes pets that are predator rather than prey- ironic, considering her rabbit mask. She likes an animal that can help hunt or defend itself.

#dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #the huntress x reader #the hillbilly x reader #the wraith x reader #the spirit x reader #first post first writing!#tried to write a good amount for all four of them but there was just more in my brain for some than others.

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thewailingbells · 2 years ago

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The Wraith With a Survivor Who Constantly Runs Into Him

The first time this happened was when you were going through one of your first trials. You were doing your best to be helpful to your team. The only thing you knew how to do was fix generators and that was exactly what you did.

Being a new survivor in the fog, you knew nearly nothing about the killers in the Entity's realm. So, you were oblivious to the fact that there was an invisible killer watching your every move.

That killer was none other than Philip. He took pleasure in observing his environment and those around him. New survivors always peaked his interest and you especially had captivated his attention.

He noticed that you were like him in an odd way. You always took a few moments to look around at the scenery before continuing to work on your generator, similar to what he does before killing his victims.

You quickly finished the generator you were working on. You stood up and began running at your top speed, trying to find another generator to fix.

That was when Philip noticed you were running directly at him. His eyes widened. You weren't stopping. Most survivors could sense the Wraith's presence. It seemed that you didn't have that ability yet.

Before he could move out of the way, you ran directly into his chest. You fell on your back and cried out in pain.

Philip stared at you in curiosity. He thought you were so innocent, so naïve. You sat up and began looking around. It still hadn't clicked in your mind that you ran head-first into the killer.

He sighed. He didn't want to hurt you. He couldn't hurt you. Philip patiently waited for you to run in the other direction, and that is just what you did.

After that, the Wraith thought that situation would not happen again. Someone at the campsite has to tell you that he can turn invisible, right? Wrong. No one told you. So you ran into Philip. Again. Again. And again. Each time you were more confused then the last.

He made the decision to uncloak the next time you were about to run into him. He reasoned that this was for your own good. You needed to see him for who he was, a monster. He was expecting you to scream in terror at the sight of him, for your beautiful facial expression to turn into one of disgust.

It didn’t. You looked at him and smiled. "So you're what I've been running into this whole time?"

He nodded. You giggled and gave him a small hug. “Thank you for not killing me. You could’ve done it so many times by now. You’re so kind.”

You're adorable, and he's obsessed with you. You’re his now.

Now he absolutely loves when you bump into him while he is invisible. He will wrap his arms around you and give you a big hug before gently pushing you in a safe direction.

#the wraith #philip ojomo #the wraith x reader #philip ojomo x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd

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phantomvegetable · 6 months ago

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The Wraith x Reader

heaven found us tw’s: none rly. maybe a little bit of dissociation on philip’s end ? he’s just baby idk 🥹

Philip was wandering again.

Outside of trials, he seldom kept still; like a phantom he would float amidst the fog, having no clear direction nor goal to accomplish as the steamy white clouds strung him passively along.

Philip didn’t mind, though—quite literally. Almost as if he was in a haze, he would allow the fog to carry him, like a fish down a stream. Each time, Philip ended up somewhere different; sometimes a familiar scene, sometimes a completely new setting. And, sometimes, if he was lucky—the fog would deliver him something, too.

The cat in front of him stares through Philip with piercing golden eyes, her charcoal fur glinting in the moonlight. She tilts her head ever so slightly, and Philip copies the motion. As if pleased, she mrrrows politely and rises to her paws, padding over to him inquisitively with her tail held high in the air. With his free hand, he stretches out to pet her, which she happily accepts. She erupts into purrs beneath his touch, and Philip is reminded of the goodness that even the entity cannot erase.

Upon running his fingers behind her ear and down her neck, Philip finds a makeshift string collar that he failed to notice before. He traces the material down to the bell that dangles over her throat, the ornament jingling faintly as it is fondled. The cat meets his ivory eyes sweetly as if to answer his wordless question, so you belong to someone? She meows again, rubbing against his legs before sauntering off in the direction she previously came from. Philip stands straight to watch her leave, curiously finding himself being compelled to follow—so he does.

Unwavering gaze fixated on her, Philip trails behind the unnamed cat as she tinkers forward, being careful not to frighten her by the ringing of his own bell. As the fog swallows her small form for only a moment, the atmosphere shifting and exploding into chilly air, Philip finds himself in front of a roughed-up cabin decorated with various plants (native only to the fog) and odd trinkets alike; the paint stretching up and down the wood fresh, yet somehow chipping.

Most interesting of all, the cat Philip had followed was heading towards the only other person sitting in front of the cabin—someone Philip did not recognize.

You sat on a log with a paintbrush clutched delicately between your fingers, a rickety easel holding up an unshapely piece of material that had strokes of oranges and blacks strewn about the canvas. Your clothes weren’t torn or in tatters like other survivors—though they were a bit dull, and covered in paint—and your expression was one of serenity and focus; a stark contrast to the usual haunted, drained look the others usually wore. And, as you are approached by the cat that seems very familiar with your person, you dazzle her with a smile that makes Philip long for something he can’t quite place.

The sound of Philip’s bell startles even himself as he moves to get a closer look, causing your head to lift sharply until you’re pinning him to the spot with beautiful, alarmed eyes that quickly soften into something akin to understanding.

No, you weren’t one of the survivors—you couldn’t have been with the way you were looking at him. So, then… who were you?

“Look, Heavenly,” You say to your furry companion, just loud enough for him to hear, “it seems we’ve attracted another stray.”

Another stray? Philip was not a wraith of many words, but that did not mean he didn’t understand them.

Somehow, though, the way you said it was less offensive and more alluring.

You giggle—charming and angelic—and set your paintbrush down, shifting to fully face Philip. You cock your head, still smiling, and gesture to your current work in progress.

“What do you think?” You ask him earnestly, welcomingly. Philip feels himself tingle and burn with what feels like embarrassment at being put on the spot by someone so unlike him, simultaneously feeling angry at himself for not being more wraith-like. The wailing bell he held was meant for damaging and destroying, not to look like something he clung to for comfort, as he was doing now.

Still, Philip obliges you; inching forward to get a better perspective of your artwork, quickly finding himself at a loss for what to think.

Before Philip’s eyes was a painting of himself, depicted as much more docile than most others probably found him. He was standing tall amongst the throng of needle-like trees, signature wailing bell hanging by his side. The sky was a deep orange, dipping between branches and coming to rest on his shoulders in a gentle glow. Oddly enough, he was missing a face entirely; the shape of his head was there, but no eyes were to be found.

Philip tilts his head as if searching for his face, not realizing he had drawn even closer until he was hovering by your side. You watch him patiently, stroking Heavenly as you wait for a response.

“…Is… that supposed to be me?” Philip finally asks, voice gentle and hollow-sounding, pointing a finger to the painting. He sees you nod and lowers his hand, confusion settling in.

“You’ve been here before,” You explain slowly, earning Philip’s surprised gaze that you don’t meet. “I’ve seen you many times, but this is the first time you’ve come this close. It’s okay if you don’t remember.”

That’s the thing—he doesn’t remember. Why would he come here? He didn’t even know where here was. And, yet…

“…I followed your cat,” Philip says after a moment, and finally the two of you make eye contact. You look in astonishment up at him before looking down at Heavenly, then back up at him again. Then, you let out a bark of laughter.

“Heavenly got you to come here?” You chortle. “She barely listens to me when I ask her to come inside.”

Philip looks down at Heavenly, who simply blinks back up at him. He blinks back.

“…Why did you paint me?” He questions, sounding and feeling suspicious. You merely shrug.

“Ever since you first visited me, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. And when you kept coming back, I just…” You motion randomly with your hands. “Needed an outlet. You were a mystery to me.”

Philip cocks his head. “You’re really not from the trials, are you?” You give him a quizzical look.

“Trial? What trial?”

“…Nothing,” He murmurs, reaching out to pet Heavenly, who bumps her head against his hand. His lips twitch in a half-formed smile.

“Will you stay this time?” You ask, stilling Philip.

“…Probably not,” He answers, drawing away. You frown, then sigh, casting your gaze downwards. Philip feels himself being pulled back by an invisible force; the fog calling him to ‘come, come back home.’ He puts space between he and you, standing at the edge of the ivory mist that laps at his clothes in wispy tendrils. You look up at him one last time, giving Philip a sad smile.

“I guess I’ll see you again,” You say, solemn.

“…You will,” He promises, not knowing why, but knowing that he most certainly would be back. You seem to brighten at that.

“Bye, Philip,” You call as he’s sucked into the fog, into confusion, and into darkness.

#dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight reader insert #the wraith x reader #philip ojomo x reader #I FINALLY DID IT YALL #i said i would write for phil and i DID #hes just a baby #IDK i just love that philip loves cats ok

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writer-freak · 24 days ago

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Hi! If it's ok with you, (spoilers for Hooked On You, that DBD dating sim)

In one of the endings you get appointed as Jr. Deputy Entity and left in charge while The Entity goes on vacation.

Anyway, can I request Philip Ojomo with a reader that has been left in charge as The Entity's replacement? It doesn't have to be in the Hooked On You version, I actually think it may be more interesting in the context of the original Dead By Daylight.

You can include any other characters you want, but I'm mostly interested in The Wraith to be honest.

Thanks in advance!

Thank you so much, I wrote it in the original Dead by daylight universe and made it more angsty and open ended. If this isn't what you had in mind feel free to request again <3.

You never expected to be left in charge.

One moment, the trials were running as normal, Killers hunting, Survivors scrambling, the cycle of life and death playing out just as the Entity demanded.

The next, the Entity itself, the one forcing you to repeat this never ending horror, simply left. No explanation. No grand spectacle. Just a vague notion of "vacation" and an unsettling sense of absence.

The weight of its realm ended up onto your shoulders like a heavy cloak, suffocating and cold.

The killers felt it immediately. Some stopped mid-hunt, heads tilting toward the sky as if they could sense the shift. The ever-present hum of the Entity's hunger faded to a dull, distant echo, and something in the air loosened like a thread loosening.

Now you were watching the trials below with an unsteady heart. The twisted landscape plays beneath your gaze, looping through broken realms, endless loops of suffering. The fog seems thicker, more restless, curling around your ankles like it’s waiting for direction.

You’re supposed to give it.

A low clang echoes behind you, distant and metallic. You turn just as Philip Ojomo, The Wraith, emerges from the mist.

His weapon dangles loosely from his hand, fingers curled around the rusted metal like it might slip away. He just stands there watching, the same way he always does like he’s looking through you, seeing the pieces no one else does.

"What does this mean for us?" he finally asks, voice low and rough.

It takes you a second to find words.

"I... don’t know yet."

Philip steps closer, his big frame that shadowed you should be frightening, but somehow it comforted you. He’s careful with his movements, like he knows the strength he carries and doesn’t want to wield it recklessly. The bell in his hand lets out a faint, ghostly chime as he shifts.

"You control the trials now?" he asks, voice echoing in the stillness.

"I guess so. The Entity didn’t exactly leave me a handbook." You try for humor, but it falls flat.

Philip is silent for a long time, his head tilting slightly. You wonder what he’s thinking if he’s debating killing you right here, testing if you're really the one in charge. But he doesn't move. Instead, he lets out a low breath, almost like a sigh.

"You shouldn’t stay out here" he mutters, glancing at the fog getting thicker around you two. "The others... they’re restless."

You swallow hard. You already know that.

The Trapper has been more brutal than usual, dragging trials out for hours, his traps placed with sadistic precision. The Huntress hums her lullabies louder, her axe swings growing reckless and wild. The Killers are testing limits, waiting to see what happens when they push too far.

Waiting to see if you’ll stop them.

"Let them be restless" you say, voice quieter than you want it to be. "I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do."

"You could stop this" he says carefully, like he’s afraid of the words. "You could change everything."

Your chest tightens.

"I don’t know if I should" you admit. "The Entity’s coming back. Eventually. And when it does..." You trail off, throat tight, rubbing your arms like you can chase away the cold creeping in from the fog. "If I change things... if I mess this up... what do you think it’ll do to me?"

Philip’s fingers twitch around the handle of his weapon.

"You’re scared" he states, voice quiet. Not accusatory. Just... understanding.

"Of course I am." You let out a bitter laugh, swiping a hand down your face. "I don’t belong here. I don’t know why I got stuck with this. I’m not a god. I’m not the Entity. I’m just... me."

Philip watches you, his gaze heavy. He takes a small step forward, then another, until he’s close enough that the chill radiating off his body seeps into your skin.

"We’re scared too" he finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

You blink up at him, throat tight.

"You?" you echo, barely believing it. "But you’ve been here forever. What could you possibly be scared of?"

Philip glances away, jaw tight. He rolls his shoulders, fingers flexing like he’s trying to shake off an ache buried deep beneath the surface.

"When it comes back," he mutters, "if it doesn’t like what you’ve done... it won’t just punish you." His voice goes lower, rougher, as he looks back at you. "It’ll punish all of us."

The words sink in like stones.

You stare at him, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t need to. You already understand what he means. The trials could get worse. The punishments harsher. The Entity could stretch out its claws and twist this place into something even more brutal than before because of you.

Philip shifts, his clothes rustling as he turns away from you, like he can’t quite meet your gaze.

"But if you try to help" he says carefully, "even just a little... we’ll take the risk."

You bite the inside of your cheek, your pulse hammering in your ears.

"You’d risk making it angry?" you whisper.

Philip nods, slow and deliberate.

"For you?" he rasps. "Yes."

The fog curls tighter around your ankles, tendrils lapping at your boots like cold fingers. The realm is watching, waiting, listening. But Philip is the only thing you focus on the weight of his words, the faint tremor in his voice.

"What do you want me to do, Philip?"

His eyes darken, and he doesn’t answer right away. He lifts his weapon again, fingers curling around the handle. The metal is tarnished with blood and rust, a reminder of what he’s done, what he’s been forced to do.

"You could free us" he says eventually, voice barely a whisper. "Or you could let it continue."

He shifts, stepping back, the fog swallowing part of his figure.

"Either way," he mutters, "we’ll follow you now."

He fades into the mist with a low, distant chime of the bell, leaving you standing there with a thousand unanswered questions, the weight of an entire realm pressing down on you and a choice heavier than anything in the realm itself.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

#Philip Ojomo x reader #The Wraith x reader #dead by daylight #Wraith x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by deadlight #philip ojomo #the wraith #the wraith dbd #dbd x reader #dbd wraith #wraith dbd #dbd #dbd fanfic

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r3dkn0ts · 2 years ago

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I wanted to start something on my own ( the ask box is open pls send requests I am bored ) and got inspired reading some prompts, so here's the DBD Killers' reactions to getting horribly flirted with! Including some of my own pick-up lines because I'm bad at flirting

Badly Flirting with The DBD Killers: Part 1 Featuring Evan MacMillan, Philip Ojomo, and Max Thompson Jr.

Themes: GN!Reader being cringe, an attempt at comedy, slight fluff, and implied smut Warnings: Canon-typical violence

The Trapper / Evan MacMillan - You got cornered while injured with no other survivors nearby. Shit. Might as well give it a shot, right? - "Hey, are you a hundred dollar bill on the ground? Because I'd pick you up and spend every bit of you immediately." - Your voice was wavering as you said it, even though you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. - Evan's loud puffing behind his mask made the silence even more deafening. Was he gonna mori you now? Probably. - "Nice try", was the only thing he said in his rough accent before swiftly downing you and putting you on a sacrificial hook. - He definitely wasn't going to admit that your pick-up line made him chuckle a bit inside of his head, or that it made you look cute. - He couldn't stop thinking about that for a while.

The Wraith / Philip Ojomo - Trapped in a corner in the garage at Gas Heaven, your friend Ace had dared you to finally confront The Wraith about how you felt the next time you met him in a trial, even supplying you with a pick-up line. - You certainly weren't one to back down from a challenge! This was stupid. - "Are you a fine wine? Because I'd love to taste you." - Philip stared down at you blankly, darting his stark white eyes between the concrete floor and your face. - Had you actually flustered him? Body language was all you really had to go off of, and the fingers on his right hand were twitching. - Before you knew it, he rang his bell to cloak and darted out of the building, leaving you alone in the cold garage. - Did you offend him? What if he's already in a relationship? Ah fuck, you didn't think of that. - You didn't know it, but he watched you run out of the exit gate, cloaked. You didn't even see him for the rest of the trial. He was too embarrassed to face you any time soon. - Much to his surprise, that was the first time he had ever gotten physically aroused after being taken into the fog. He had business to take care of after you left.

The Hillbilly / Max Thompson Jr. - The three other survivors were sacrificed. You thought you were about to get chainsawed in half, but he stopped revving when you looked like you were about to say something to him. He was curious. - "Hey, if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber!" - Your comment made him tilt his head to the side like a confused puppy and lower his chainsaw. Did you just compliment him? Why? - His second assumption was that someone had dared you to compliment him as a joke. He was always the butt of the joke, so why would anyone actually compliment him? He's hideous! - You noticed him getting caught up in his head, so you took a chance and gently placed a hand on the deformed flesh of his arm. He flinched a bit and looked back down at you. - "Are you okay? I really did mean that. I think you're cute." - Max simply stared at you in silence. He was really, really confused. Were you serious? You sounded serious. - He looked back down at the hand you still had on his arm. You went to take it back, scared he was angry, but he grabbed your wrist as you did and pulled your smaller hand into his. - For a moment, he just looked at your hand. Your skin felt so nice against his. He had never felt someone touch him unless it was meant to hurt him. He liked this new feeling. - For once, Max felt himself smiling. He knew he had to let you go, though. So he let you leave through the hatch after you promised him you'd visit him later.

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagines #the trapper x reader #evan macmillan x reader #the wraith x reader #philip ojomo x reader #the hillbilly x reader #max thompson jr x reader #fluff #smut #imagines #gender neutral reader #lgbt reader

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rootsofdread · 1 year ago

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May I request some headcanons for The Knight, The Blight, and The Wraith with a twitchy boyfriend who has trouble staying still? Sometimes I'll be sitting still and my head will jerk to the side randomly or one of my legs will kick out and it drives me insane to the point I have trouble falling asleep sometimes :(

i have a similar problem! mine get soo bad when i'm tired lol. we're in this together anon ✊

Philip Ojomo / The Wraith:

Philip tends to keep a close eye on you. He worries about you -- even if you've told him not to be -- and fears you may hurt yourself accidentally, so he just wants to make sure you're okay when he knows that your twitching is acting up. If you're standing together he'll put his hand on your shoulder or around your back, but otherwise, he frequently checks in on you.

In a really weird kind of way, he finds your twitching...comforting? It lets him know you're still with him. When the two of you are close in any way, like when you're laying together or he's holding your hand, and he feels you jerk around, he pulls you closer. He would prefer it didn't happen, for your sake, but he appreciates knowing you aren't suddenly gone.

And he's certainly no stranger to having problems sleeping, being haunted by nightmares, himself; so he knows how you feel, to some extent. When he feels you jerk around in bed, he'll immediately wrap his arms around you and lean his head into your back or chest. He doesn't really know how to help you, because he doesn't know how to help himself, but he hopes that helps...at least a little.

Talbot Grimes / The Blight:

Talbot has always loved having you around since he met you; he finally has someone more like him around the fog. It really does something to his old, shriveled up heart seeing you do the exact same thing he does. Granted, his are more frequent; it still has always made him happy.

And he always tries to make this clear to you. Even before you were together, he'd frequently hobble over to you just to sit with you. He's not much of a talker, so he usually conveys his thoughts through gestures or tapping his cane. He didn't think you understood for a while, but was delighted when he realized you did.

When you're having problems sleeping, he'll always offer you some sort of tonic or tincture to relax you and help you sleep. If you don't want any, that's fine, he'll let you cuddle up and rest your head on his chest, so that he can rub your back while he reads quietly beside you.

Tarhos Kovács / The Knight:

Tarhos was always interested in you from the moment he saw you. He's never seen someone do...that, before. He had long assumed you were cursed for your hubris, once upon a time, or something similar. Yet, you seemed to be taking it quite well. Resolve is one of his favorite qualities in a person.

He's always around to make sure nobody gives you a hard time for something out of your control -- something so inconsequential, at that. The last thing he wants is for you to feel embarrassed about it. If anyone so much as snickers, they will meet his blade.

When you're frustrated by not being able to sleep, he tells you that fire is important, but it will be better spent elsewhere. He settles you back down, tucks you in, and will usually either read to you or recount stories from his time as a true knight for you. By this point, you've probably heard all of them, but he still hopes they soothe you.

#inbox #gender neutral reader #survivor reader #killer reader #philip ojomo #talbot grimes #tarhos kovacs #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #philip ojomo x reader #the wraith x reader #talbot grimes x reader #the blight x reader #tarhos kovacs x reader #the knight x reader

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nemo-writes · 5 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; torn by their obsession, the pack crumbles—now feral shadows of themselves. ghost, spiraling into hunger and rage, unleashes his fury.

⚠️ warnings; obsessive behaviour, unhealthy coping mechanisms, violence (sybil gets hurt!), blood and gore

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

The Rose District was a place of shadows—where the dimly lit streets bled into the underworld, where the stench of decay lingered in the air, and whispers of trouble hid behind every corner. Ghost had never liked coming here, but tonight, he had a purpose.

You had been raving about some rare herb for the past few days, an ingredient you couldn’t find anywhere else. Ghost, seemingly indifferent to your ramblings, had made a mental note to find it for you.

He moved with silent efficiency, his half-wraith nature allowing him to blend easily into the darkness. His eyes scanned the corners for any signs of the itinerant vendor he knew to hang around the area. The herb was supposed to be rare—dangerously so—but he couldn’t bring himself to care beyond getting it and making you happy.

That was, until he heard a soft voice, muffled and frightened, cutting through the usual hum of the Rose District. It wasn’t the sound itself that drew him—plenty of people got into trouble here—but there was something in the air, a pull.

He stepped out of the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he saw the scene unfold a few feet away. A young woman—her honey-brown hair gleaming faintly in the dim light—stood cornered by a group of rough-looking men. They smirked, closing in, their intentions clear and unkind.

Ghost could have turned away. He didn’t know her, and getting involved in these kinds of situations wasn’t exactly his style. But something in him shifted, a tug in his chest that he couldn’t quite shake. He sighed, his usual apathy mixing with a sense of obligation he couldn’t place, and stepped forward.

“Leave her,” he said, his voice low, barely a whisper, but it carried an unmistakable weight. The men froze, eyes flicking up toward him. They were the type to recognize danger when it appeared, and Ghost—his towering frame half-hidden by his hood—was clearly not a figure to be trifled with.

One of the men sneered but backed off, motioning for the others to follow suit. “Not worth it,” he muttered under his breath, casting one last leer at the girl before disappearing into the shadows.

Ghost watched them retreat, then turned to the girl. She was trembling slightly, her brown eyes wide with fear and gratitude. This was routine for him, helping folk when he had to, stepping in only when necessary. He was about to turn and leave, to forget this ever happened, when she spoke.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft, vulnerable.

Something about it made him pause, just for a moment.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice rough, more out of habit than genuine concern.

She shook her head, a slight smile forming on her lips, but before she could respond, her hand brushed his arm.

It was nothing—just a fleeting touch, accidental. But in that instant, something shifted. Ghost pulled back slightly, confused by the sudden wave of emotion crashing over him. It was subtle, at first, just a faint whisper in the back of his mind, but the longer he looked at her, the louder it became.

He tried to shake it off, tried to remember why he had come to the Rose District in the first place—there was something he needed to find, something important.

A strange sensation crawled up his spine, sinking deep into his mind. He felt… tethered, as if something in him latched onto her presence, a root slowly winding its way into his thoughts, making her impossible to ignore. His apathy slipped away, replaced by a growing need to stay close, to keep her safe, to protect.

He found himself stepping closer instead of retreating, his usual detached composure slipping as he studied her. She didn’t seem aware of the effect she was having, of the slow, insidious way she was beginning to unravel everything inside him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice a little softer than before. The words felt automatic, like he was trying to regain control, but his mind was already clouded.

“I got lost,” she said, her eyes darting nervously toward the dark streets surrounding them. “I didn’t mean to—thank you, again. I’m Leah by the way.”

Ghost’s thoughts were hazy now, unfocused, as he repeated her name over and over again in his mind.

“We should go,” he muttered, gesturing for her to follow him. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand why he felt this way, but he couldn’t leave her alone now. Not when the pull was so strong.

By the time they reached the edge of the district, the thought of the herb he was supposed to find for you had completely faded from his mind. All that mattered was Leah—and keeping her near.

. . .

Plates sat piled in the sink, crusted and acrid with the remnants of old meals. Dust had settled over every surface, thick and undisturbed. The smell of neglect filled every corner, the windows streaked with grime, letting in only the barest slivers of weak, muted light.

The pack's home lay in shambles, reflecting the twisted obsession that had taken root in their minds. Every room told the same story—untouched and uncared and ignored like everything else that wasn’t Leah.

John’s instincts as a hunter—the sharpness, the clarity of purpose—had dulled, eroded by worry and exhaustion. He barely left the house, even though he should’ve been out there, doing what he did best, leading them. His guns, his gear, lay untouched, gathering dust in the corner. The man who had always been their steady hand, their anchor in the storm, was unravelling, his focus split between trying to hold the pack together and his concern for the woman who had somehow become the centre of all their lives.

Gaz rarely touched his books now, his once-meticulous study routine had been discarded, left to gather dust along with the shelves sagging under the weight of broken trinkets and forgotten potions. The thought of casting a spell, of focusing on anything outside of Leah, seemed almost impossible now.

Soap, once the energetic heart of their pack, had become consumed by his inner beast. His werewolf side, once held in check by a fierce loyalty and steady self-control, had slipped its leash. The wildness in him had grown more pronounced, his pacing erratic, his growls more frequent. He snapped at the others, a low, rumbling threat in his throat whenever they got too close. His restlessness filled the air, his anxious energy like static that crackled between them all.

And then there was Ghost. Of them all, he was the worst.

He had stopped taking the tonics you prepared especially for him—those essential mixtures that kept his half-wraith nature in check. Without them, the feral part of him had completely taken over, spiralling out of control. His skin had taken on a pale, deathly hue, his eyes burning red with the hunger that gnawed at him from within.

Things eventually did break apart.

The air in the house was thick with tension as the four of them gathered around in the dim light of the living room, a fire crackling in the hearth but offering no warmth.

Leah, despite having her own space above Laswell’s bar, had made herself at home in their place. It seemed so natural at first, like she belonged there among them. For a while, she stood out in the chaos, pristine and pretty amid the disarray.

But then, a sudden illness settled over her.

She had stopped eating days ago, and with every shallow breath she took, each spiralled deeper into their own madness.

The tension was unbearable, each day blending into the next, an endless cycle of sleepless nights and anxious pacing. They had stopped caring for themselves and each other. Fights broke out over nothing, their frustrations boiling over with every glance, every word.

The house that had once been a home was no longer a sanctuary. It was a reflection of the decay in their hearts, a hollow shell of what it had once been, crumbling under the strain of their obsession love.

“She needs more than we can give her,” Gaz said quietly, his voice laced with frustration. He rubbed his temples, as if trying to ward off the pounding headache that had settled on his temple for days. “I’ve tried every spell I know. None of it’s working.”

“Spells?” Johnny scoffed, his pacing agitated. “Spells aren’t what’s gonna fix her. We need to get her out of here, take her to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“And who, exactly, is that, Soap?” Price shot back, his voice rising. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his face shadowed with exhaustion. “You think there’s someone out there who can handle this? Someone we can trust with Leah?”

Soap growled low in his throat, his enlarged nails flexing at his sides. “Better than sitting here, watching her waste away while you all argue over nothing.”

“We don’t know even what’s wrong with her!” Gaz snapped, losing his temper.

“And sitting here debating it is helping how?” Soap shot back, his eyes flashing in the low light. “We’ve been going around in circles for days. She’s getting worse, and all we do is talk, talk, talk!”

Price stepped forward, his face dark with anger. “We can’t just run off blindly. You think you’ll make it two blocks without something worse happening? The moment we leave this house—”

“This house is a tomb!” Soap snarled, his voice cracking. “She’s dying in there, and you want to sit here, playing it safe? You’re the one losing it, Price. You’ve lost your edge. You’re not thinking straight.”

Price moved so quickly that Johnny barely had time to react. They were face to face in an instant, both of them bristling with raw anger, their tempers flaring. “You want to say that again?” Price growled, the hunter in him itching to lash out.

Gaz stood up abruptly, pushing them apart with a frustrated grunt. “Enough! This isn’t helping anyone, least of all Leah.” He turned to Ghost, who had been eerily silent throughout the argument. “Ghost, you’ve barely said a word. What do you think?”

Ghost, standing in the corner, his form barely visible in the shadows, seemed almost detached from the scene. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, flicked to Gaz, but there was no recognition there, only a raw, feral hunger. He hadn’t taken his tonic in days, and it showed—the half-wraith within him was clawing its way to the surface, gnawing at the last vestiges of control he had left.

“We’re wasting time,” Ghost finally muttered, his voice guttural, barely human. His muscles twitched with unspent energy, his body wound tight as if ready to explode. “She’s dying. And we’re doing nothing.”

“We know that,” Gaz said softly, trying to reach him. “But we can’t just—”

Ghost’s eyes flickered, a dark intensity flashing across his face. “Then stop talking. Do something. Or get out of my way.”

Before anyone could react, Ghost was gone. He moved with inhuman speed, disappearing through the door in a blur of shadow and cold air. They barely had time to process it before the chill of his absence settled into the room.

Price cursed under his breath, turning back to the others. “Damn it, he’s gone feral.”

Soap’s pacing resumed, even more agitated now. “We can’t keep him locked up forever. He was bound to snap.”

“And now what?” Gaz asked, his voice hoarse with worry.

But despite the renewed sense of urgency, the argument had changed nothing. Leah still lay feverish in the other room, her condition worsening by the hour. And with Ghost gone, it felt as if the last thread holding them together had finally snapped.

And outside, in the night, Ghost stalked the streets, driven by an insatiable thirst, slipping deeper into the feral haze that consumed him. The city, bathed in the cool autumn moonlight, was ripe for hunting.

. . .

That cool evening you strolled through the dim streets with Sybil at your side. It was a rare moment of quiet, a stolen breath of normalcy after weeks of carefully orchestrating your life away from the pack.

No contact, no messages, no nothing. You were trying to move on, and of course failing miserably.

You tugged your cloak tighter around your shoulders when something suddenly felt… wrong. An icy chill washed over you, setting your nerves on edge, like a storm creeping in from the horizon.

Then you saw him.

Ghost.

His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were bloodshot, wide with hunger, glowing faintly in the dark like a feral animal.

Then you noticed the blood. Fresh streaks ran down his arms and neck, his clothes stained and torn, his skin smeared with it. Clearly not his own. He had already hurt someone. Maybe worse.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Simon?” you called his name softly.

He didn’t answer. He just stared. Unblinking. And then, with terrifying speed, he lunged.

Panic surged through you, and without thinking, you ran—your only thought was to get back to the shop. Trusting wholly that Sybil was by your side, you sprinted through the streets, your breath coming in frantic bursts, the pounding of his feet behind you growing louder, faster.

You barely made it through the door, slamming it shut and locking it just in time. But there was no time to catch your breath. Ghost was right behind you, slamming into the door with such force that it cracked. Your heart was racing in your chest as the door gave way under the weight of his attack, splintering open.

He barged in, and the destruction began.

He tore through the shop like a whirlwind, knocking over everything in his path in his blind attempt to catch you. Shelves collapsed under his weight, glass bottles shattered, herbs spilled across the floor, the once-familiar scents mixing with the pungent stench of blood and sweat.

“Stop!” you screamed, but it was useless. He couldn’t hear you. Couldn’t stop.

He pounced at you again, and Sybil, ever fearless and faithful, intercepted him. She sank her teeth into his leg, snarling fiercely, and for a moment, it slowed him down. He roared in pain, staggering, his bloodshot eyes narrowing in fury. But with one hard swipe of his hand, he sent her flying across the room. She hit the wall with a pained whine, her body crumpling to the floor.

“Sybil!” you wailed, heart splintering at the sight of her.

He stumbled on his injured leg, collapsing like a rag doll. But he wasn’t done.

Before you could react, his hand shot out and latched onto your ankle, dragging you down with terrifying strength. You hit the floor hard, pain shooting up your leg as he pulled you toward him, his grip crushing, his nails digging into your skin, drawing blood.

You cried in pain, instinctively twisting your body and kicking him—hard and square in the jaw. The impact was brutal, and his head snapped back with a sickening crack. For a moment, his grip slackened, and you scrambled to your feet, gasping for breath.

But it still wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

You limped towards the cauldron over the hearth, the brew still bubbling inside, before latching fiercely into it and toppling it towards him. The boiling liquid splashed all across the floor and against Ghost. His howl of pain ripped through the air as steam rose as his skin sizzled and burned, blistering down to the bone where the unfinished position had hit him.

You were barely holding on as you manoeuvre yourself around him and the torrid concoction, your body trembling as you picked up Sybil and darted towards the stair, desperate to get away. Every step was agony, your ankle throbbing from where he’d grabbed you.

You managed to slam the door to your apartment shut, locking it with shaking hands, but it felt so fragile. Too fragile. The sounds of Ghost’s growls echoed below, followed by the scraping of claws on wood.

He was coming.

You fumbled for your phone, hands shaking uncontrollably as you dialled Laswell’s number. The line rang and rang, but there was no answer. Your heart sank, panic rising again. You tried over and over, but no response came.

The door shuddered as he reached it, his nails scratching and clawing at the wood, a relentless assault that made your heart pound painfully in your chest. You clutched Sybil tightly in your arms, her body trembling against yours. She was hurt, but alive. You pressed your face into her fur, tears streaming down your cheeks as the scratching continued, a reminder that he wasn’t going to stop. Not until he had you.

The weight of it all—Ghost’s betrayal, the destruction of your shop, Sybil—threatened to suffocate you.

All you could do was wait. Wait for the sun to rise, for the light to finally push back the nightmare.

But deep down, you feared that by then, it might be too late.

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notspiders · 11 months ago

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Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

~~~~

Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

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teddypines · 4 months ago

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Daddy's Home

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Summary: The 141, mostly Price, getting a warm welcome home from a long mission away. His dragon babies being adorable and Soap being a little possessive. Also Y/N being a good mom, because you are doing great.

Note: Just fluff in the monster au.

Art/picture is from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it.

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Y/N helped Amy out of the car before grabbing Jim from his carseat. She wasn’t scared that Amy would run off right now, since the toddler was holding onto her belt loops and couldn’t fly very far on her own. She was way too tired to do anything else but to hold onto Momma. Y/N smiled while strapping the hatchling to her chest in his papoose. Amy used to fit inside the papoose when she was still small, but now it was Jim’s. Once Jim was all settled and continuing his nap, Y/N closed the car door. “Want to be on Momma’s back, Sweetpea?” She asked Amy, receiving a small nod from the toddler. She helped Amy onto her back, making sure she was safe between her wings.

With the children close to her Y/N grabbed the baby bag from the trunk and locked the car. They were going to pick up Daddy from a long mission. It had been a rough couple of months, especially with Price missing Jim’s hatching, but she filmed it for him and sent it to him so he wouldn’t miss it entirely. Amy was missing Daddy bedtime and just having him and her uncles around. With a small determent smile Y/N took the kids to the airfield on base. Hoping Nikolia took the 141 back home safely.

Y/N had to wait a little while in one of the hangars, of course being checked and double checked that it was actually okay for her and the children to be there. Getting a few odd looks as she sat there, Amy still holding onto her back. “Momma? Why are we up?” She asked in a sleepy voice. it actually made a few of the nearby soldiers melt at how cute the little dragon was. “We are picking up Daddy, Sweetpea. Bringing him home with us, and of course your uncles too. Their flight is just really early that’s why we are up early too.” Y/N explained to Amy, hoping her tired mind would understand what was going on for now. Amy nodded her head against Y/N’s back. “Otay.”

<------------------------------------------------------------->

It’s been a long 3 months. Price hated it, even more because he missed the hatching of his son. He was glad Y/N filmed it for him, but he still felt upset about it. He missed his princess and his wife. Only he didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on what he was missing since the mission came first. He had to make sure his team was doing their jobs and that they got home safe after it all ended. They got pretty lucky with this mission, only Soap was hurt and that was mostly his own fault for not looking where he was going. There were minor injuries, but Ghost still fussed over Soap on the plane, giving him a small lecture about keeping his eyes open and to focus instead of yepping over com’s.

Price just let it all happen around him as he talked to Gaz, telling the sergeant how much he longed for a hot shower and cuddles on the couch. Wanting to hear Amy’s voice, wanting to hold his son and to kiss Y/N. It was clear by the way Price moved his tail around the floor of the plane. Gaz understood the longing his captain felt, wanting to go back to his own loved ones. He was just as curious about seeing Price’s son as the man himself, wondering if the hatchling got his colors for his dad or his mom, or maybe a mix of both. Soap just wanted to see the hatchling and Y/N again, and have some time with Ghost. And Ghost just wanted to sleep.

“Landing in about 10 minutes, everyone.” Nikolia’s co-pilot announced to the 141, The four of them smiling at the news. They would be home soon with a welcome home party waiting for them on base. A small party, but a party nonetheless.

<------------------------------------------------------------->

“Miss? The plane is landing in about five minutes, would you like me to take you to the landing?” One of the soldiers around her asked with a kind smile on his face. Y/N nodded and stood up with a groan, Amy was fast asleep on her back, putting her full weight onto her Momma’s back. “Yes, I would like that, thank you.” Y/N answered. Quickly following after the soldier. She knew she had to wake Amy up soon or she would be upset that she didn’t get to greet her daddy. Jim wouldn’t mind either way, he was happy with whatever.

Amy luckily woke up by herself from the loud noise of the plane. She was wide awake when she realized her Daddy was on that plane. “Momma, down! I want down!!” She demanded while struggling between Y/N’s wings. “Hold on a moment, Sweetpea, Momma is still walking.” Y/N answered only to be ignored by the toddler. Y/N sighed and quickly let Amy down. Needing to stop and kneel slightly, just to let the little one off safely. Amy flapped her wings in excitement as she ran a head to the landing plane. “Not too fast, Amy! We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N yelled after her.

The soldier led the last bit of the way to the landing, the plane already landed. Now they just had to wait for the loading door to open. Amy, already jumping up in the air to fly towards daddy. “Daddy!” She yelled, just wanting her daddy back with her.

It took a little while for the loading door to open, but there they were, the 141 safe and sound. Amy flew into Price’s arms, surprising him just a little. John quickly wrapped his arms around his little girl and kissed her head between her growing horns. “Hello, Pumpkin.” John greeted Amy. “I missed you so much.” He mumbled against her head “Missed you too, Daddy.” Amy answered. The others just chuckled and walked past the two dragons. Soap quickly going over to Y/N, the werewolf was more excited about seeing the hatchling and Y/N.

“Sooooo, where is he?!” Soap asked, his tail wagging like crazy. “Well hello to you too, Johnny, yes i am doing great, thank you for asking.” Y/N responded as she carefully took Jim out of his papoose. “Jimmy, meet your uncle Johnny. He’s a werewolf and you’re gonna love cuddling with him.” She introduced the two. Johnny looking at the dragon hatchling in aw. “He looks so small.” Johnny carefully took Jim from Y/N. “Yeah, he’s just a little smaller than when Amy hatched.” Y/N answered, making sure Johnny was holding Jim the right way. Even when he had a lot of experience with holding Amy, Jim was just a bit more fussy about how people should hold him.

Simon slowly made his way to Johnny and Y/N, standing next to Y/N as he looked at Jim. “He does have a lot more hair than Amy did after hatching.” He commented after taking off his mask, not wanting to scare the hatchling. Knowing from experience that hatchlings didn’t like his Ghost mask. “Yeah, he has his Momma’s hair.” Y/N explained.

John finally let Amy go once Kyle was like, ‘Okay enough, my time for hugs’. He looked over at the group a little further from the plane, he saw Y/N and just ran to her. Catching her off guard when he picked her up and kissed her. Holding her close as he spun her around. “Hello, Love.” He whispered to her. “Welcome home.” Y/N whispered back. She had wrapped her arms and wings around John, giving them a small moment alone. Putting his forehead and horns against hers. “I missed you.” Y/N whispered, a few tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “I missed you more, Love.” John answered between kissing her cheeks. Kissing her tears away. His one wing goes around Y/N’s wings.

“Do you want to see your son?” Y/N asked after a moment of silence. John nodded in answer before reluctantly letting Y/N go. She grabbed his hand and led him back to Johnny and Simon. “Johnny boy, can I have my son back?” She asked only to receive an almost death glare back from the werewolf. “Johnny, give the lass her son!” Simon ordered the werewolf, knowing he was already attached to the hatchling, just like when he first met Amy. Johnny whined before handing Jim back to Y/N. She moved Jim in John’s direction. “Meet your son, James Henry Price.” John looked at the hatchling in aw before grabbing him. Holding him close and just taking everything in. “He is beautiful, Love.”

Amy ran towards her Momma and Daddy once she was out of Kyle’s arms. “Daddy’s home!!!” She cheered, continuing to run around the 141. Kyle joined the group shortly after. “She has a lot of energy doesn’t she?” John nodded his head, but kept his focus on his son. Jim let out a big yawn and spread his little wings a bit, they were still flimsy, but are slowly getting stronger. They were a pretty light blue. Getting the color from John's mother. “Owh What a handsome boy.” Kyle cooed over the hatchling. John smiled At his son and quickly kissed Y/N. “Thank you, love, thank you for this. For coming to get us.”

“Always John.” Y/N answered, happy that the boy’s were home safe.

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user16121215 · 11 months ago

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Typical Trial Against the Killers

TW - Unhealthy displays of affection, Abuse (Mental and Physical), General dickishness

Herman Carter (The Doctor)

• You are the absolute last person to go.

• The good doctor won't even look in your general direction until everyone else has been taken care of.

• He's just waiting until you're on your own and he has all the time in the world to play around with you.

• Entity forbid you end up at Léry's Memorial Institute. That place was his home, he knows every little crack and corner by heart. There's no possibility of hiding, and he's faster than you are.

• If you somehow manage to escape without him getting a hold of you, be prepared for absolute hell next time you're placed against the doctor.

• He's a very prideful man and doesn't like losing in general, but when his obsession manages to slip through his fingers, there's no force on this realm, or any other, that can hold him back.

• He may even forget about everyone else and focus on you right from the start if he's angry enough.

• If this man can get you on a medical table, or anything similar, may the Entity have mercy on your soul.

• Herman likes the chase as much as any old killer but when he's had enough, it's time to claim his reward by strapping you down and inflicting his special kind of treatment he tailored just for you

Max Thompson Jr (The Hillbilly)

• Completely focused on you from the start

• As soon as he realises you're there with him, he goes mad trying to catch you.

• Most of the other survivors will escape if you're in a trial with the hillbilly because he won't leave you alone.

• This does mean that you'll probably get left behind since no one can really help you out.

• Your survival depends entirely on how fast you can run and how well you can hold your breath in a locker.

• Once he manages to catch you, he'll take his time and won't rush over to any hooks. He likes to hold you.

• He will grab you as much as he can. Instead of bashing you on the head with an oversized hammer, if he can latch onto your arm or just yank you back by your shirt he'd much rather do that.

• Your skin is so much softer than his own. So he'll delight in, not so gently, grasping any exposed flesh. Watching how it squishes between his fingers.

• This does of course lead to some rather oddly shaped bruises.

• He doesn't necessarily want to hurt you and is definitely less malicious than his colleagues. Max has never been exposed to any kind of positive relationship in his life and doesn't know how to handle these emotions he feels around you so he reacts the only way he knows.

Evan Macmillan (The Trapper)

• He'll chase you, but you won't get hooked right away.

• You'll either be left in one of his many traps or just crawling your way to help.

• Evan loves watching you limp and crawl away as he casually chases after you.

• If you're particularly annoying during a match, he might hook you just to get you out of the way, but he would much rather take his time with you and will most likely let someone unhook you just so he can chase you all over again.

• One of Evan's greatest delights is making you watch as your team dash through the exit gate without giving you a second thought.

• The look of betrayal and anguish is one he could just eat up on anyone but it has a certain extra hit when etched into your face. Especially if it was his own hands that carved it there.

• He finds it an absolute delight to watch you crawling towards the hatch, only for him to yank you back by your ankle as your fingers just brush against the metal. He gains extra satisfaction of he can yank a broken ankle, most likely given to you by own of his traps.

• He doesn't mind so much if you do escape. Obviously he doesn't like losing, but he knows you'll be back. You're his little toy after all, and he will get to play with you again.

Philip Ojomo (The Wraith)

• Mmmm did somebody say stalker?

• If you're uncomfortable with the feeling of having somebody's eyes on the back of your neck constantly, well tough luck.

• Trials with this boy are usually short and sweet.

• He's more focused on watching you and how you work than paying attention to the Entity's nagging.

• He's going to try and get as close to you as possible. Meaning that if you're not observant, he's going to be standing behind you as you're going about your business.

• He might even crouch down next to you and just stay there observing your face as you get your work done.

• Probably one of the only killers that will allow you to escape a trial. Or he'll go easy on you at the very least.

• Doesn't mean he won't ruthlessly beat the shit out of you if you get too cocky after you escape from him a few times. Mistaking his generosity for some kind of skill on your end is just not going to fly and he needs to make you painfully aware that any victory you celebrate is down to him.

• A 'Thank you Mr. Wraith.' Would be nice if you could just StOp SqUiRMING FOR TWO SECONDS.

• He just needs you to remember that although he may take certain liberties when it comes to you, he's still here to do a job and that job is to kill you.

Anna (The Huntress)

• Anna doesn't treat you much differently in a trial, even if she's fond of you.

• Not familiar with any human interaction outside of the very limited experience her mother provided have left her ignorant to anything beyond primal instinct.

• Death is just part of her understanding of affection.

• She loved her mother, her mother died.

• She loved the children, the children died.

• She may love you, and you suffer the same fate.

• Though you are different because you come back from death.

• Which only inspires her to kill you again.

• The hunt is courtship, the pain is yearning and death is love.

• And while she hunts, hurts and kills other survivors, you remain special to her and although nothing is different in the executions between you and your fellow sacrifices, to her it is night and day.

• She expects you to know that.

• She doesn't understand that you can't see the difference.

#dbd x reader #the wraith x reader #the trapper x reader #the hillbilly x reader #the doctor x reader #the huntress x reader #dead by daylight x reader #x reader

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fishyvamp · 4 months ago

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Unlucky!reader who is on their way to work. You're just listening to music walking down the street when you trip on a bit of uneven sidewalk, but before you even fall you find yourself caught in the arms of the friendly bartender from the other night. Seeing him in the daylight he's rather handsome even if his features feel weirdly blank. You thank him and nods his head helping you to your feet the same hooked feeling latching into your chest. You smile, at him watching as he points to your bag your lunch box lid loose. You must not of secured it like you thought and you close it thankful that you hadn't really tripped after all.

He held out his hand head cocked to the side and you swear he smiled slightly as you took it. The time on your walk spent with you talking and talking, saying whatever fills your mind and the walk to the shop seems so much shorter. Your boss looks almost startled to see you and you're not sure why until you realize you're here earlier then expected. Huh... That walk was shorter then you remember it being. You wave the friendly bartender off who brings your hand to his lips kissing it softly. "Till next time," his words above a whisper.

You turn around in time to see your boss shaking his mumbling something under his breath that sounded vaguely like one trade for another. You shake your head to thank him again but he's gone. That same bell from the other night chiming. You didn't catch his name... Maybe next time you'll ask.

#dead by daylight #dbd x reader #dead by daylight au #slasher x reader #fae!au #dbd fanfic #fae!wraith #dbd killer x reader #dbd #x reader #philip ojomo x reader #philip ojomo #the wraith x reader #the wraith #the boss is a seer #he doesn't want to draw attention to himself by the fae so he ain't saying shit #seriously does anyone read these tags?#fishy is rambling

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cluelessatthispoint · 2 months ago

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Dragon's Hoard pt.3

(Inspired by bluegiragi and docdudo)

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Soft snores and gentle gasps echoed lazily within the darkened lair of the dragon and his mates.. the small family all safe and cozy with one another far away from the noisy blight that is humanity and their ways of living. Usually it would be easy to fall asleep, but try as he might, Gaz laid awake. Hard instincs screaming at him to succumb to sleep. The environment around already working so hard to lull him to what his instincts crave.

Gaz laid awake in the nest, his eyes straining as he peered up at the dark, stalactite filled cieling. The sight leaving a tingling imprint in his retinas. As much as he would have liked to get some sleep after a long day. There was only so much he could handle in a day spent flying and helping Soap pick off straggling sheep for their next meal. Never in a million years did he expect Price to come home with a child in tow. Just what the hell was he thinking? A literal human child, in the home of a hybrid pack. So many things could go wrong. With a sigh, Gaz groggily brought a hand up to massage and pinch the bridge of his nose. He was one for surprises. Sure there was the time when he and Price spent a surprise, anniversary night out gazing at the stars after a successful hunt. The clear night sky overhead glittering with innumerable stars overhead. The way the light from the moon casted a silvery glow over as far as the duo could see was a magical sight. It was quite possibly one of the best surprises Gaz could think of to this date. Well, not anymore.

The sleeping child in the group nest proved that opinion all too well. With a sigh, Gaz unfurled one large wing up and out in one glorious motion to flex and stretch. The joints in his wing getting all nice and lubricated to chase away the stiffness in his muscles and tendons. Slowly, so as to not wake anyone else from their much needed sleep. Looking over and down at the small tufts of hair that curl about your small head. Gaz gently lowers the tip of his wing to wrap around your form. All tired out and limp in their nest. Tiny lungs working hard to keep an even pace as your small chest rises and falls with each gentle inhale and exhale. Each small twitch in your sleep is monitored, each small groan and stretch as you wander in dreamland is counted. For Gaz, It's like a dream come true. A strange, unexpected dream. Its been so long since he's raised a chick. Furling his massive wing around your midsection, Gaz scoots his body closer to envelop you in his warmth. Chicks need plenty of warmth to sleep well. And good sleep leads to healthy growth. A patient smile makes its way to his heart-shaped lips. A soft croon just beggin to make its way out. Would the chick even like his song? The culture of his kind? Would the chick learn to appreciate the differences of their new parents?

As if roused by the acrid smelling spike of anxiety wafting off of his husband, Simon; from over the shoulder of Price moved quietly to lean up on his forearms. Sleep still dancing across his eyelids as he narrows his vision on Gaz. His tired brown eyes laced with concern.

"Hey"

"Hey yourself."

The sound of Simon's sleep tinged voice is a welcome relief to Gaz’s ears.

"Can't sleep?"

A pregnant pause follows the question. As if Gaz really needs to answer the question, the wraith knows what's bothering him.

"The kid is fine. Just tired. Scared. It's to be expected. Doubt Soap here helped any."

With a heavy sigh Gaz cuddles closer to your unconscious form. To Simon, the sight of such a large harpy and such a small child just seems wrong. Different species all gathered in one place. That's how most wars break out, but yet this family makes it work. Better than most same species families.

"Soap won't eat the kid...back in the day he might've...but not now..ease up Gaz."

Dark brown, chocolate eyes sweep over Gaz gently before straining to look over at the tiny bundle all snuggled up against his chest. The harpy's instinct to gather and protect their young is strong, almost ferocious at times. But Gaz looks so gentle. Laying back down to carefully spoon against Price. Simon is ever mindful to be aware of not disturbing the portion of the dragon's hybrid back where his missing wing should be.

"We're where we belong. That includes the kid."

The tenderness in Simon's voice almost surprises Gaz. That tone is usually reserved for more intimate moments.

"What do you mean Si?"

"Look at em. So small, tiny...almost insignificant. Just like we all were at one time or another."

"So?"

"Price...he can see the value in even the smallest things. The broken things....like us."

The unspoken words between them echo in their minds. "Like me". Broken. But still so very much loved and adored.

"Get some sleep Gaz. You can look the kid over and clean em in the morning."

The subtle command in Simon's tones doesn't go ignored. Even the sleeping werewolf somehow registers the tone, responding with a heavy yawn and a rumbling purr. With the quiet in the den, the sounds of deep, rhythmic breathing gets swallowed up by the thick rocky walls and cushions and fabrics that make up the spacious nest. With tired eyes, Gaz curls in and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. The soft hair that frames your cherubic face makes you look years younger than you are. The softness of your skin and its youthful buoyancy are still there even after all this time on your own. It makes his heart clench up tightly to think of all those years you've spent begging and scrounging for scraps like a common mutt in the city's streets.

"John always finds the value in the little things in life. I guess he saw something truly special in you chickie."

Gaz says softly as he presses his lips to your forehead. We're humans always this cold? Did John bring home a sick child? How do you care for a sick child that's not the same species as you? What if something is wrong? Shaking those terrible thoughts away, his mind wanders to what Simon said. And how everyone gathered here in each other's space, share so many wonderful things with each other. How coexistence just comes natural to them. How it'll hopefully come naturally to their newest addition. Shaking his head, the way Soap spoke of the child at first made him cringe. Eating them up and the like. The werewolf has no tact when it comes to children. Sighing gently, his deep brown eyes gaze at you with a tenderness only reserved for the young his instincts so desperately crave. Watching over you as you squirm in your sleep. No doubt moving in response to his soft exhales ghosting over your skin.

"No one's eating our chick...not my chick."

He whispers softly in oath to himself. His words not as unheard as he believed. On the other side of the nest, a soft, barely perceivable smile tugs at the corners of Price's lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ta da! Part three is here. I'm planning to have the next few chapters focus on the 141 individually and how they respond to having a child in their lives now.

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#cod x child reader #cod fanfic #cod #simon riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #mythical au #mythical creatures #dragon price #harpy #wraith #werewolf #x child reader #kidnapping mention #platonic #cod au

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