#claredeadbydaylight

[myriadxofxmuses]

@claredeadbydaylight

"I don't know," Syd started as the duo walked. "I'm just not a...group person. You of all people should know that," she added with a small smirk.

"Yea. I know," he replied, slight defeat in his voice. "Hell, I felt like I couldn't be part's group 'cuz bad luck follows me everywhere. Bur it ain't like that no more. N'it don't have ta be for you neither."

He was about to plead his case further when the crack of a branch rang out somewhere in the treeline. Daryl put a hand up, stopping Sydney. He listened to the returning silence a moment before calling out.

"Alive or dead?"

Nothing.

When a second branch cracked the two sprung into action and entered the treeline. A small group of walkers were spread out among the woods and the two made quick work of them.

"Look. All I'm saying is that maybe I'd be better off outside the walls. I could still be a part of what you have, but on my own terms," Syd offered, wiping her blade on her pant leg before sliding it back in its sheath. She then began searching the lifeless walker nearest to her. "Bingo," she said to herself when she managed to removed his backpack and found it half loaded with useful supplies. "Guess its our lucky day," she said holding it up.

Off in the nearby distance a shuffling could be heard and Daryl's head whipped toward it, quietly pulling his crossbow to the ready. He put a finger to his lips at Syd and she nodded in understanding. She sold the bag onto her back and pulled out her own sidearm, ready to help Daryl defend against whatever may be coming their way.

"Alive or dead?" he repeated when the noose continued.

[thevoidscreams]

Cuddling myers for @claredeadbydaylight

Cuddling Micheal is never up to you. He's hard to read and even on a good day he might not allow you to get close enough.

When he wants affection, he takes it. His arms are like steel bars, you aren't wiggling your way out of it until he let's you go.

This may make things frustrating in your relationship if you like affection, especially if you've had a bad day and so has he.

Grumpy or moody Myers, while not completely impossible to approach, is best left to his own devices so he can calm down.

Other times he's in a rare and very good mood. He'll leave his mask off all day and let you kiss him on your own terms. This means he's gotten to the stage of actually feeling love for you in some form or another.

Again, not all affection can be on your terms. When he wants a kiss he will hold you against him, one hand on your back and the other on your skull and make out with you with enough ferocity that you're afraid he might just pull a Hannibal and eat your face.

Soft cuddles and kisses are rare and dependent on his unpredictable moods. But they can happen. You have to give him time to work up to it. Settling down in a relationship in which he's protecting and not killing is incredibly difficult for him because he actually has to take your well being into consideration.

The longer your together however the better he gets and he might allow you to start cuddling on your own terms....maybe.

[sanctuarymade]

THE SOUND OF A GUNSHOT MADE EVERYTHING IN HER STOP.    while a few moments before, she’d been fantasizing about a long nap in her warm car after her second sleepless night in a row  ( two healthy babies and mothers were absolutely worth it, but she was exhausted to her core ) ,  the sound drove the notion of sleep so far from her mind that it was laughable.  call it instinct or common sense, but despite the ricocheting echo her eyes snapped to the men just ahead of her immediately, leather clad and intimidating, just in time to see one hit the ground.

she was moving toward the commotion before she had the chance to think better of it, her mind whirling, counting the seconds she knew could very well be precious.  it’d been years since she’d worked in an er, but the amount of gunshots she’d seen at the time made the internal calculations little more than second nature.  one step, two—  her ears were still ringing to loudly for her to realize she was being addressed at first, the glint of light coming off the barrel of the gun pointed in her direction being the thing that finally drew her to a stop.

blue eyes widened, so quickly it would almost be comical if bone deep terror hadn’t immediately replaced surprise.  her mouth went dry, heart leaping into her throat as she stared at the man with the pistol, her mind temporarily replacing him with someone a little shorter, more familiar, more full of rage, as the details of the last time a gun was in her face flooded back so quickly they knocked the wind from her.

a groan of pain from the man on the ground snapped her back to the present with frightening clarity, panicked gaze tearing from the man making demands to the one on the ground, blood pooling around him quickly.

“ he needs an ambulance,  i can’t— ”   even as she tried to argue, she knew it was useless.   “ okay—  shit, okay... ”  the rare swear ground through gritted teeth.  “ if you don’t get the bleeding stopped there’s not going to be anything anyone can do. ”

plotted starter ft. @claredeadbydaylight

[inprometheanfire-archive]

@claredeadbydaylight​ continued from here

To his own tune, he says. Of course he does. There’s nothing more infuriating to hear him say that because it makes her feel as if she is not needed. It’s in Esmee’s nature to be the nurturing counterpart in any type of relationship, after all. She scoffs, visibly upset by his words, even though she’s trying her hardest to put on a brave face. The kind of face with an expression meant to convince him that what he says, harsh as it is, does not hurt or wound or despair. Standing before him, arms folded across her chest, she can merely gape at him in utter disbelief. She’s not angry. She’s upset. More than that, she’s heartbroken to hear that he’d rather risk his life out there than take a little precaution. Just a little. For my sake, she says within herself. Briefly uncrossing one arm, she brushes her hand through her hair merely out of frustration before returning it to her previous stance. “Do you now?” She purses her lips together, brows slightly furrowed. “And if that tune leads you into something you can’t get out of?”

[fxntasmagoriaarchived]

“Oh. I thought you left.” ( From Clare to Nate Rivas)

"Just went to get breakfast. Havent had time to go grocery shopping so i didnt have anything to make here." Nate said with a shrug of his shoulders. He didnt often let people stay the night but he was tired so he caved. "Theres coffee in the kitchen."

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

🤍 Love train! Send this to all the people who deserve love! don't forget to spread the love! 🤍

[hellshiremisfits]

♧ Neil (claredeadbydaylight)

( slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch )

O’Leary hissed at the slap, pulling his hand back. “Look, miss, if this is some legal matter I *can* help. Jus’ lemme have a look at that.”

He briefly rolled his eyes, then focused on the stack of letters on the table again.

( @claredeadbydaylight )

[the-ghost-face]

Ghostface meets Sister!Anon

@claredeadbydaylight

Danny frowned as he looked at the camera, then glared at the girl’s green eyes. He was most definitely confused, and was growing more angry with every passing moment.

“Okay, first of all, nobody tells me what to do. Secondly, I don’t need a fancy laser beam to kill people. Third, I’m an only child, so stop calling me your big brother. And fourth, who the fuck even are you?!”

[facesofthefog]

3. ☠️

[65 Questions You Aren't Used To: Accepting]

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Samuel

“This question sounds surprisingly hard... Is it open or am I just reading it wrong?”, he asks the empty fog, eyes focused on the note at hand. This one’s aura was at least not hidden away. A question asked by another survivor. “I would not want to meet my mother in the fog... That would be worse than the killers. But if we are talking about a person I never met before, then I don’t really have anything to say to that. Every person we meet provides us with new knowledge and experiences. They are valuable, even if they may leave us with unpleasant memories.”

Ghost

“All of the bugs crawling in this hell hole are interesting enough that there are none I wouldn’t want to meet”, he murmurs whilst twirling the knife in his hand, the point of it digging into his gloved finger. 

[myriadxofxmuses]

@claredeadbydaylight

"Fed actually. And hate to break it to you, but I've already been shot. A few times. It's gonna take more than that to take me out. But I'm sure Clare would be more than happy to share that whiskey with me."

[thevoidscreams]

Roll of the dice

Closed starter for @claredeadbydaylight Sorry this took me so long. I've been chipping away at it for a bit now.

Familiar strangers. Everyday nameless faces.

The floor around him swarms with warm bodies and raucous shouts of grief and delight, men and women with everything to lose and everything to gain. But very few will ever walk out the same doors they poured in hours before with even five dollars more to their name.

More likely they will find themselves unable to pay rent or keep the lights on or put food on the table for their hungry children.

His gaze sweeps over the crowd to find a girl who's barely over eighteen with a man three times her age. She's laughing at and hanging on his every word and her freshly developed curves fill out a dress he can't imagine is comfortable. He turns his gaze again and finds another, then another and still again, another girl. They're still children for God's sake but here they are.

The hungry mouth that rabid gambling parents failed to keep fed, to keep dressed. To keep safe and loved.

No, rather the clattering of dice was far too important. The need for that dangerous rush that any victory brought, no matter how minute.

His stomach twisted as a young woman passed him, one who looked a lot like someone he loves. But it isn't her.

His face was set with a smirk and he looked like a man with everything, but he'd give it all up just to get away. Just to find an escape to the constant clattering of dice and shuffle of cards.

"Maverick. Are you heading out or what?" The security detail that kept the casino mostly safe was another one of the familiar men he saw every day. But his name escaped the hit man.

"Yeah. Just taking it aaaall in." He grinned wider and lifted his arms to sweep them through the air, as if he was showing off some grand majestic view.

The guard's guffaw was warm but he knew the man was bullshitting. "Yeah okay. Well when you're done sightseeing there's something more pressing for you to attend to."

Maverick knew that, he certainly didn't need to be reminded, but he didn't hold it against the guard either.

"Yep. On it." Maverick left the guard to continue his route as he made for the front of the gaudy building. He hated the inside of casinos. He'd been subjected to them since his teenage years and they never failed to make him angry on the inside. The very thing they stood for made him broil with unspoken rage.

As he weaved through the throng of individuals, men and women and girls barely old enough to be women there was only one place on his mind.

The night air was so much cooler than the gambling floor and a lot darker too. Ahead of him was a vast lot, packed with cars and a few stragglers coming in late or leaving early.

His car was somewhere in the maze of colors and shapes that lay before him.letting out a breath he nearly turned around to go back in.

"You got a job right?"

A flat voice called out from the darkness somewhere behind him. Higher up than he was, somewhere on the awning above the main doors. Maverick didn't turn to see, he didn't need to to know who it was. "Yeah. Mom wants someone gone."

He growled. Now just wanting to just get his car and get gone. He needed to get this damn thing over with, if for no other purpose that his own sanity. He shoved his hands down into the depths of his coat's pockets and grasped his phone, turning it over in his restless hand. "What about you?" He asked, fishing his keys from his other pocket.

"I'm done with mine for the evening." It replied again. He heard an audible scuffle and they were gone. Of course they were done. The black claw didn't waste time during a kill. Tonight he was determined not to either. There was only one place he wanted to be, and it wasn’t here.

[sanctuarymade]

cemetary :  for one muse to find the other at a gravestone. for leo from clare if possible. :)   /   a comprehensive list of scenarios   /    @claredeadbydaylight​

the crunch of leaves behind him in the dark makes leo jump ,  and he whirls to the sound, heart leaping to his throat in premature hope, that maybe theo had deigned to join him   (  a stupid thing to hope, really —  theo hasn’t been to their father’s grave since they were fourteen and his little brother twin had made it clear who he blamed for sean’s place in their life, leading to one of the worst fights they’d ever had. ) 

he can’t quite help his face falling, disappointed, when dark eyes fall instead to a shorter, much more feminine form. his brows knit together, his shoulders roll, the heavy weight of familiar leather soothing the uptick of his pulse.

“ sorry, thought you were someone else. ”

[hellshiremisfits]

"How are you holding up, Charlie? I know you and me got on the wrong foot, and you need to apologize, but hay, I got this old record for ya'. Dusty old thing has this good song I think you might like."

Charlie quirked his brow. “Oh? Well, I must admit, I’m not one to be called musically inclined, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

He rose from his seat and went for the liquor cabinet in his small room. “Can I offer ya a drink?”

[myriadxofxmuses]

@claredeadbydaylight from X

"Maybe. But isn't it more fun to build something up just to destroy it all over again?  It takes twice as much effort and gives that much more satisfaction when it all falls apart."

[myriadxofxmuses]

@claredeadbydaylight

[thevoidscreams]

@claredeadbydaylight

(Closed rp with claredeadbydaylight)

Time flows like a stream to the void, chaotic but linear, always leading to the same conclusion no matter how it branches.

Places, people and all manner of other things are no more than pebbles in its current. Forever being tossed about in the waters and shaped by the events of that stream.

The Void could clearly see portions of the stream that was the life of Clare, prior to the fog. Each time a new memory danced before its sight it ingrained every detail of the moments into its eternal memory. It would keep them there forever. Just one more bit in the countless trillions of other bits it had collected since time had begun its trickle towards becoming a stream. But it would cherish these ones especially.

The negative emotions had burned away and now there was only happiness, hope and love.

It began to sample the happiness, feeling the emotion slowly burning its way through its shadowy body. It was like being dipped in pure, burning light. Too good to be true and too good to be felt by the likes of this empty husk of a creature. It would weep if it had tears to cry. The pure ecstasy of joy was mind numbing.

Running the fingers and palms of each hand over every inch of its pseudo-huminoid form it nearly squealed at the sensation of her glee and sweet sweet happiness.

Which it came one of those tender memories. It devoured the scene and continued to steep in the glorious light of raw joy.